.. .       " 
Sf^' 


M.  W.  MOUNTS 

OLD  BOOKSELLER 

626  Penn  Avenue 

Pittsburg,  Pa. 

Cost  Self 

j 


PITTSBURGH: 
.i .   11 .  w  K i,  i)  r  x  A-  Co. 

No.  1IH  WOOD  ST. 
1876. 


THE 


OR, 


BRADDOCK'S   TIMES. 


A  TALE  OF  THE  WEST. 


War  and  love  have  various  cares  ; — 
War  sheds  blood,  and  love  sheds  tears, 
War  has  swords,  and  love  has  darts, 
War  breaks  heads,  and  love  breaks  hearts. 
M'CAKKOCIIEK. 


TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE. 

VOL.  I. 


PITTSBUR GH : 

M.  P.  MORSE,  85  FOURTH  ST. 

JOHN   15.  KENNEDY,  BOOK  PUBLISHER 

FEIJKKAL,  STUKET,   ALLEGHENY. 

1848. 


EuU-red  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1848,  by 
H.  }[.  DAVIS,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  tin 
\Ve.-tern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


PREFACE. 


In   presenting  this  edition    to  the   public,    the   publisher  is 
influenced  by  no  motives  of  private  gain  or  speculation.     The 
work   has   been  read    and    appreciated    by   many   of  our    old 
citizens — it  needs  no  eulogy — it   speaks  its  own   praise.     It  is 
^emphatically  an   American  work,  abounding  in  incidents  con 
nected  with   the  early  settlement  of   the  Great    West.      Many 
of  the   localities  named,  are  in  our   immediate    neighborhood , 
and   associated    with  the   early    career   of   the  Father    of   our 
country,  when,  in  the  flower  of  his  youth,  he  traversed  these 
wild,   forests,  and   gave  evidence  of  those  great  acquirements 
and  traits  of   character,  the  fruits    of   which    have    displayed 
themselves  in   the  well-tilled  farms  and  splendid  cities,  teem 
ing  with  millions  of  intelligent  and  happy  people,  that  cover 
the  whole  West.     To  keep  alive  these  recollections,  and  foster 
a  love   for  our  national  literature,    which  will  more    than  all 
else  tend  to    develope    the  native    talent  of   our  country,    has 
been  the  object  of  sending  this  work  before  the  public. 

PITTSBURGH:,  September,    1848. 


WILDER  NESS. 


CI1APTEH    1. 

A.s   b'dw    ui:r   •••liij-   her   foamy    li'itrk, 

Against  lliii  wiml  was  cleaving, 
Her  trc'inblimr   pendant    still  look'd  hack 

'I  11   that  dear  isle  'twas  leaving  ; 
Sjii    loath  we    part   from  all   we  love, 

I'roiii  all  the  links  that  bind  us, 
So  turn  our  hearts  where'er  we  rove. 
To  tli"se  we've  icit   Behind  us! 

MOORE. 

IjKT  melancholy  spun*  talk  as  they  please  concerning 
the  degeneracy  and  incrca^inir  miseries  of  mankind,  1  will 
not  believe  them.  Th::y  liuve  her'ii  speul.iiiff  ill  of  them 
selves,  and  predicting  worse  oi  their  posterity,  from  time 
iinmi'morial  :  and  yet,  in  the  pn.'s-eut  \ear,  I82:i,  when, if 
the  one  hiuulreth  part  of  their  gloomy  foreliodings  had  been 
realized,  the  earth  mu.-t  have  heeomc  a  Pandemonium,  and 
men  something  worse  than  devils,  (for  devils  they  have, 
been  long  ago,  in  the  opinion  of  these  charitable  denuncia 
tors,)  1  am  free  to  assert,  thai  we  have  as  many  honest 
men,  pretty  wonim,  healthy  children,  cultivated  fields,  con 
venient  houses,  eleirani  kinds  of  furniture,  and  comfortable 
c-lothes,  as  anv  jjent'.r.ition  of  our  ancestors  ever  possessed. 

This  notion  of  mine,  be  it  right  or  wrong,  has  not  result- 
rd  from  any  course  of  abstract  syllogizing  upon  the  nature 
of  things,  a  mode  of  discovering  tiuth  in  which  I  never  had 
much  confidence.  !i  ha-;  arisen  from  that  more  certain 
source  of  acquiring  opinions,  vulgarly  called  "ocular  demon 
stration" — having  lately  had  a  vieu  of  part  of  that  portion 
of  the  American  hemisphere,  which  extends  from  the  South 
.Mountain  in  Pennsylvania,  over  the  Allegheny  ridge,  to  the 


( iff     u  (i,sn,t::\  t  •• 

head  of  iho  Ohio  river;  a  fount ry  v?hidt,  in  the  re.r 
ol'mnny  yet  living  was  long  the  scene  of  want, 
desolation,  terror,  ami  ?av;rgc  warfare,  where  the  t?-,ve/lcr' 
had  not  a  path  to  guide-  ftis  course,  nor,  in  a  jour/jey  o*- 
many  days,  could  find  n  ?rat  in  whicfo  to  iepo?e  .his  fra?ne  t 
where  the  hardy  white  roan,  wno  ventured  to  make  a  set 
tlement,  had  not  a  neighbor  within  many  a  league,  am? 
Avhcre  lie  seldom  retired  for  t)ie  night,  -fcdtliont  fearing  that, 
before  the  morning,  both  his  family  and-  hi«n?elf  saigiht  be 
come  the  victims  of  the  tomahawk  and  the  scalping-snife. 

As  a  remedy  for  the  unhappy  malady  tinder  whielb  the 
misanthropic  believers  in  the  deteriorating  rendition  of  sian- 
kind  labor.  I  think,  that  an  attentive  ramble,  at  the  present 
day,  over  this  extensive  region,  making-  at  the  sara  etiine,  n 
careful  comparison  between  what  it  now  is,  and  wfeat  it^vas 
fifty  years  ago,  would  be  effectual.  "VVikI  and  gigantic 
mountains  are,  indeed,  still  there;  but  beautiful aitd  ~r/eli  cul 
tivated  valleys,  lying  on  the  bosom  of  peace,  ?<v)d.  in  the  lap 
of  plenty,  are  spread  beside  them.  At  the  distance  of  everv 
two  or  three  hours'  ride,  a  nourishing  town  or  Tillage,-  in 
habited  by  sober  Christians  and  industrious  freemen,  snhites 
the  eye  of  the  traveller;  while  people  of  all  agesr  sexes, 
tastes,  and  tempers,  enliven  the  road  as  they  pass  ?'k)ng, 
either  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  or  in  vehicles,  which  are 
here  to  be  met  with  of  every  description,  from  the  light  stul- 
ky,  which  scarcely  presses  upon  its  springs,  to  the  heavy. 
cumbersome  wagon,  dragged  slowly  along  by  six  horses, 
In  this  region,  there  is  now  neither  want,  nor  fear  of  want ; 
neither  enemy,  nor  fear  of  eenmy  ;  but  every  man  earns 
his  bread  in  comfort,  and  eats  it  in  safety,  in  the  midst  of 
his  familv  and  friends,  without  fear  of  molestation  from 
cither  civilized  tyrants  or  savage  marauders. 

Far  different,  was  the  situation  of  things  in  this  fair  region 
of  the  earth,  when  Gilbert  Frazirr  first  erectrcl  his  log-house 
on  the  bank  of  the  Monongahela.  Then,  indeed,  might  :? 
misanthropic  grumbler  have  had  reason  to  complain  ot  fh< 
condition  of  men,  at  least  of  those  men  whose  fate  it  was  to 
be  planted  like  Gilbert,  in  a  savage  " WILDERNESS."  It  wa* 
f:it<\  iiulrrr],  and  not  rhoirr,  ns  may-  well  br  supposed,  th.it 
had.  .it  i'i!>i.  ii!:niird  him  Ui'Tr:  but  notwithstanding  Ins  ri 


-liU-iK1.-  u  i  exposed  to  nuiuerou.j  incoiiwni'Mu-c- .,  and  con 
slant  dangers,  :i  slouf  heart,  (for  he  hud  a  good  conscience 
and  feared  nothing,)  combined  with  a  feeling  of  generosity, 
the  source  of  which  will  be  hereafter  explained,  to  bind  him 
to  it,  and  Providence  had  hitherto  preserved  him  in  safely. 
iNay,  in  process  of  time,  habit  had  so  reconciled  him  to  his 
situation,  that  lie  scarcely  looked  upon  the  misfortune  that 
had  brought  him  there  as  an  evil.  Years  had  mellowed  it; 
impression  upon  his  mind:  and  sitting  by  his  winter  fireside 
he  would  often  relate  the  storv  to  his  family  with  much  the 
same  feeling  that  a  sailor,  snug  on  shore,  recounts  the  dan 
gers  he  lias  undergone  at  sea. 

He  had  entered  the  world  nearly  about  the  same  time 
with  the  century  in  which  he  lived,  and  somewhere  between 
l-olerain  and  Londonderry,  in  Ireland.  Whether  his  father 
or  mother  was  forty-second  cousin,  or  no  cousin  at  all,  to 
some  nobleman  or  squire,  is  of  no  consequence,  merely  be 
cause  he  thought  it  of  none,  or  rather  because  he  never 
thought  anything  about  it.  A  far  more  important  matter  of 
recollection  with  him,  was  his  marriage,  which  took  place 
in  his  twenty-first  year,  with  IN  ell  v  iYl' Clean,  a  pretty  rosy 
cheeked,  iair-skined  Irish  girl,  with  dark  eves  and  black 
hair,  who  was  about  a  couple  of  years  younger  than  him 
self,  and  whose  heart,  although  it  was  as  light  and  as  ten 
der  as  a  linnet's,  had  stood  nearly  a  twelvemonth's  siege  lie- 
ton;  il  surrendered  to  his  attacks.  When  it  did  surrender, 
however,  it  was  at  absolute  discretion,  and  (iilbert  ever  after 
found  it  as  faithful  and  fond  as  a  hearty  lover  like  himself 
could  wish. 

As  Gilbert  wished  to  make  his  dear  Nelly  alutli/,  but  was 
unable,  from  a  cause  very  prevalent  among  his  countrymen, 
the  want  of  funds,  nothing  would  now  satisfy  him  but  a  trip 
to  America,  in  order  to  make  his  fortune.  Not  that  he  in 
tended  to  leave  his  own  country  for  ever,  for  with  all  its 
poverty,  he  still  thought  it  was  a  dear  and  sweet  country, 
but  he  supposed  that  a  residence  of  seven  years  at  the  far 
thest,  in  a  land  so  tar  oil  as  America,  must  make  him  rich 
enough  to  return  home,  and  live  the  remainder  of  his  days 
like  a  gentleman. 

"What  fine  times  will  it  then  be  for   Nelly,  (thought  he.) 


I  !l  I       V,  !  I  L»  ItNt'. 

\vheti   dm-sed  111   h-r  silks   and  laces, 

cousins,  the  Burrels  and  the 

every  year,  on  Hanxt-l  ;'/  , 

a  isew-vcar's    gut.      Fait] 

then!" 

To  America.   . 

but   think  not,  that   h.'  si  from    his    Xellv — no;   he 

•would  as  r.o<'ii  fia\ ;   , 

shoulders.      TIu,\   set  sail  together    Iron!   lair  Loiidonden  \ 
one  bright,    morning    in  April.    1723;   and    Gilbert   felt,    u- 
many  an  Irishman  has  since  i\. .•!:.  or;  iaUir,g  the    last  look  oi 
his  native  country,  that  it  requiiod  ail  his  c  >urage  to  prevent 
him  from  betraying  his  sorrow;  for  noUviihstr  •  pros 

perity  that  lie  Mijipopfii  a\vait!.':i  hiai  a' 
was  about  to  pun?bas<    li  sic::;-    b\    Ibrsaking   ihu    land  ol  hi 
nnti\  n\\      I  If:  look:  d  at  li  . 

gazing  at  the  fast  rctirino  ishowsn,    which 

was  the  last  ves  uar  Ireland  thai  shew  as  to  see.     lie. 

perceived  that  her  eyes   •  •    with  tin:   moiMuu":  or 

jrrief;  andalthou-'ii  ins  own  lifarf  iroia  tiie    sarnt 

O  '  "~ 

cSlise,  he  thought  ii  his  du:y  LO  comfort  iu.r,  as  he  tried  to 
comfort  himself.  l;v  hull  uliisperi;^  ;..nd  half  singiur. 
in  her  ear, 


Whether  this  promise  of  her  becoming1  a  Pennsylvania  huh  . 
had  the  consolatory  effect  upon  h.is  \viie  that  Gilbert  intend 
ed,  1  cannot  say  ;  but  it  is  certain,  that  except  about  three 
weeks,  during  which  she  labored  under  tne  tortures  of  sea 
sickness,  she  endured  a  boisterous  passage  of  nearly  thrc-.e 
months  with  considerable  liveliness  and  good  humor.  At 
length,  if  we  may  believe  Gilbert's  own  account  of  the  mat 
ter,  one  Sunday  morning — (as  good  luck  would  have  it) — 
he  had  the  happiness  to  laud  on  the  wharf  at  Philadelphia, 
with  his  Nelly  on  his  arm,  and  iwcnty  gold  guinuas  in  iris 
pocket. 

Gilbert   was  now  in  the  L;nul   of  Promise,  the  briyht  El 
dorado  of  his  imagination,  where  even    thinp    he  did   wus  to 


be,  -jo  richlv  remunerated,  tint  In.;  very  scratching  of  the 
Around  would  cause  it,  to  term  with  wealth,  and  spreading  his 
hands  to  heaven  would  bring  down  a  shower  of  gold.  Dur 
ing  the  first  week  after  his  arrival,  lie  \vas  in  ecstasy.  Al 
though  none  of  the  expected  riches  had  yet  made  their  ap 
pearance,  he  very  rea:-onai>!v  ascribed  this  to  his  not  having 
made  any  of  the  exertions  necessary  to  attract  them;  for  he. 
was  not  such  a  fool  as  to  suppose  that  they  were  to  be  gain 
ed  without  exertions  of  some  kind.  But  these  exertion  she 
could  make  when  he,  needed  them  ;  and,  like  ;i  true  Irish 
man,  he  considered  his  twenty  guineas  sufficient  for  all  pre 
sent  purposes.  He  therefore  thought  that  it  could  not  be 
wrong  to  enjoy  himself  a  little  in  a  new  country;  and,  as 
iNelly,  who  was  rejoiced  to  have  tier  foot  once  more  on  Ter 
ra  Firma,  was  unusually  cheerful  and  engaging,  he  could  do 
no  less  than  spend  a  couple  of  weeks  in  showing  the  dear 
girl  the  novelties  of  the  place. 

At  length  his  twentv  rniineas  were  reduced  to  ten;  and 
he  began  to  think,  for  he  had  a  mixture  of  Scotch  blood 
in  him.  that  he  should  do  some  thing  to  prevent  their  farther 
reduction.  He  expressed  his  wishes  to  several  of  the  na 
tives,  expecting  that  they  would  make  him  acquainted  with 
the  plnn  of  getting  rich  which  suited  their  country.  They 
told  him  to  "work." 

"Work  !"  ejaculated  Gilbert  to  himself;  for  lie  had  the 
prudence  to  percene  that  it  would  not  do  to  ali'ront  the  na 
tives,  by  expressing  audibly  any  feelings  of  disappointment 
respecting  their  country — '•  work  !  an'  was  it  for  that,  after 
a',  that  I  left  the  snujj  toonlan'  o'  Maughrygowan,  an'  cam' 
owre  the  ocean,  whan  1  thourhi  I  wad  become  a  gentleman 
on  my  very  landin  !  Work  !  why  what  waur  could  1  hae 
done  at  hame,than  to  hae  labored  for  mv  daily  bread  !  But 
I  was  nae  quite  at  that  need  either.  Eh  !  sirs — Nelly,  puir 
lass  !  is  as  little  likely  to  become  a  "lady  in  Pennsylvania," 
as  the  san^  \\  e  u^r-d  to  sin^,  >-a\^,  than  she  was  in  her  ain 
country  !" 

However,  Gilbert  was  not  of  a  lemper  to  be  cast  down 
by  trifles  ;  and.  as  his  eyes  were  now  pretty  much  opened 
to  the  real  circumstances  of  the  country,  and  his  funds  were 
everv  day  dimiriishin£r,  he  though  nt  last  of  seriously  betak. 


I  O  i  H"  t      v,  II.DETiN  Rs.S. 

ui;l  himself   ui    work,   as     lie  had    been    advised.     Jle    v/a.-- 
healthy,  young,  and  active,  and,  as  far  as  respected  hnnsell. 
had  n«  other  objection  to  a  life   of  labor,  th.-n  the  slo- 
\\ith  v,  Inch  tl  bioiu'ii'  in    that  uhich  had  been    tin- 

preut  object  of  his  emigration,  His  Nelly,  however,  u:<- 
(iiure  allecied  at  tin:  ihouuni  "i  his  bein^  (,l>li;,(  d  iu  rani  their 
sustenance  i>v  ihr  sweat  of  hi-  nil  her  SOITOM  g 

his  feelings  far  more  sensibly  than  tho  ni-ct'-ssitv  v\  Inch  oc 
casioned  theiii.  She  became  home-sick,  as  it  is  ti-rmed.  and 
lor  several  months  ijitcri;-  n  u  alter  the  out-cakes,  the 

.  the  genial    .  <  he    svarbling-   yroves,  the- 

tairv    iuiiint'i.  and  the  rui  •  i    her    native  land,      But 

her  mind,  naturally  <  oon    recovered  its 

tone,  and,  hecon.ino-  resigned  io  fur  >itr.aticni,  site  no;  onl\ 
encouraged  her  h\i-  ds  md'i?ii  v,  hut  assisted  hiiiz 

hv  her  own. 

In  a  short  tune  (Jiiber;  ce    and  ^ood    conduct  he- 

came  noted  among  his  neighbors,  and  several  gentlemen  oi 
proper! v  were  heaul  to  spi-ak  in  his  commendation,  it  mav 
be  here  observed,  t  the  Philadelphians 

towards    strain--.-  'ttlina    among   them,   seem,    at 

this  day,  to  be  much  the  ^-cime  as  our  friend  Gilbert  i'ounci 
them  to  be  a  hundred  yeai 

•  •i'  merit    ;  hail  ap-- 

pear  :  \vhieh    \\~ill  t!, 

:.:i'Vordcd  exactly  m  such  proportion  as  the  mem  deserves, 
but  in  no  more.  In  oilier  words  the  Phibdelphians  appeal- 
to  be  the  most  pui^  justice,  but  the  most 
b.ac-kward  in  display  ity,  of  aiiy  tieople  in  tlie 
world. 

Gilbert  l-'raxier's  mrrit  \\r-s  al^o  pretty  much  of  ihe  kind 
thfit  has  always  been  in  hiffliesi  esiiniatton  with  the  inhab 
itants  of  Philadelphia — for  ".u-i/'iV/;/  and  p(rsevcra,ice" 
?.ecin  tobe  their  characteristics,  and  rnia'nt,  without  much 
impropriety,  be  adopted  as  the  motto  of  the.  city.  It  is  true, 
tha't  tii:-  warmth  of  his  iri.-a  blood  prevented  his  manners 
and  conduct  from  beirp;  so  ngidiy  regular,  tamed,  and  dis 
ciplined  in  ail  things,  as  these  of  the  older  citizens,  but,  for 
hrs  leviiles  and  indiscretion^,  3?  they  called  them,  his  neifh- 
bon-;  had  tlie  (ir>i-i(i  ORitive  lo  make  a  sniia^lc  iuiowanco.  r.i  = 


\\  11, 1't   l;  s  I  •-...• 


unt  ol'liis   being- :iu  Irishman,  and  also  to  give  him    the 

greater  credit  for  that    unexpected  decree    of  steadiness  and 
attention  to  his   employment   that  he   exhibited. 

f.ut,  although  resolute  and  determined  to  do  what  he 
eouUt  to  earn  a  comfortable  and  honest  living,  the  inrome  of 
his  occupation,  which  was  only  that  of  a  common  laborer, 
u  as  b\  far  too  inconsiderable  to  satisfy  his  wishes.  He 
u  as  also,  on  account  oi'  having  received,  when  he  was  abont 
live  months  in  the  city,  i'rjm  his  Xcliy,  the  interesting  pre 
sent  of  a  line  son,  to  whom,  although  he  was  no  catholic,  lie 
pave  tlis-  name  of  Patrick,  in  honor  of  his  native  tutelary 
samt,  the  more  solicitous  to  change  his  employment  for  one 
in. UP  lucrative.  lie  had  been  bred  to  no  mechanical  trade, 
and  he  had  ueiiher  inclination  nor  talants  for  traffic.  Thr 
management  of  a  farm  was,  therefore,  what  best  suited  him; 
and  u  was  not  lotiu1  after  the  interesting  event  just  mention 
ed,  that  he  agreed  with  a  gentleman,  who  possessed  some 
land  on  the  Juniata  ri\cr,  a  short  distance  above  its  junc 
tion  v\i;h  the  Susquehannah,  to  remove  there,  and  cultivate 
a  eeriain  number  of  acres  on  the  shares. 

On  this  place  Gilbert  had  resided  about  ten  years,  and 
h.ni  thriven  so  much,  that  he  felt  himself  able  to  make  to 
iis  ou  iier  such  proposals  for  purchasing  it,  as  he  had  ever) 
ivason  in  belie;  e  \\(,ui-l  be  accept;;!;  \\  hen  unfortunately, 
party  of  I!IUL:;IS  uiadc  a  furious  ivrupfion  m.;> 
the  senlemcnt,  and  after  [iilhiaino-  or  destroying  whaie\-er 
articles  of  value  came  in  their  way.  they  carried  oil,  ;us 
pri.-Miiiers,  upwards  <•;'  twenty  families,  cunon;1;  \vliom  was 
that  of  the  unhappy  Gdi/crl.  ile  w.'.s  ;;!  this  time,  tli<% 
laiiier  oi  llnee  children,  t\\'o  sons  and  a  daughter,  who, 
wiih  iin.'ir  mother  and  h:n  le  carried  rapMU'  l;>r 

more    liian   two  hundred    mdes,  uu;r    :v  p'athless    and    inter 
minable   wilderness  of  thick,  lonely,  and  uioomv  forest,  cor- 
re  sponding  in  its  state   of   wild  and  dismal  savagene^s    with 
the  nature  o! 'the  ferocious  a;'d  \M;'!fi'ul      ;-o\\lers,  on    whos 
ice  .iieir   v 


!'•<?  i  HI    wii.r>rKxrss. 

of  it  with  which  the  reader  must  he  already  impjv-?sed 
The  threats,  the  barbarities  and  exultation  ol'  the  savages  ; 
the  terrors,  the  tears,  the  lamentations  and  actual  sufferings 
of  the  captives,  many  of  whom,  during  their  rapid  and  cruel 
march,  died  of  their  wounds  or  their  ill-treatment,  might 
require  description  if  they  were  not  already  present  to  every 
imagination.  The  party  at  length  arrived  at  an  Indian 
town,  on  the  hanks  of  the  Allegheny  river,  called  Catanyan, 
on  the  site  of  which  the  present  Kittanning  is  huilt.  Here 
a  council  of  the  chiefs  and  other  great  men  of  the  several 
tribes  in  the  neighhorhood  met,  in  order  to  deliberate  on  the 
fate  of  the  prisoners.  Among  these,  (Gilbert  was  surprised 
to  observe  live  or  six  white  men  in  military  dress,  but  differ 
ent  in  its  decorations  and  construction  from  any  he  had  ever 
before  seen.  He  was  nevertheless  strongly  inclined  to  con 
ceive  them  Europeans,  and  the  only  thing  that  caused  him  to 
doubt  on  the  subject,  was  their  speaking  neither  English, 
Irish,  nor  Dutch,  the  only  European  languages  of  which  he 
had  any  knowledge.  His  doubts  were,  however,  soon  remov 
ed  by  .some  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  whose  information  was 
more  extensive  than  his  own,  from  whom  he  learned  that 
these  military  men  were  French  officers,  who  were  now  ex 
ploring  the  country,  and  forming  alliances  with  the  Indian 
tribes.  He  was  also  given  to  expect,  that  their  presence 
might  be  advantageous  to  the  prisoners,  as  they  would  no 
doubt  make  exertions  to  save  as  many  as  they  could  from 
that  cruel  fate,  which  the  Indians,  if  left  to  themselves, 
would  not  fail,  according  to  their  custom,  to  inflict. 

Accordingly  it  so  happened  ;  for  out  of  about  seventy 
prisoners,  there  were  only  rive  selected  to  be  burned,  and 
about  twenty  to  run  the  gauntlet.  It  was  Gilbert's  fate, 
however,  to  be  one  of  the  latter  ;  but  he  underwent  it  cour 
ageously,  and  being  "brave  an'  supple,"  as  he  himself 
phrased  it,  he  reached  the  goal  with  the  infliction  only  of  a 
few  bruises,  which  broke  neither  bone  nor  blood-vessel. 
A  few  days  afterwards  the  greater  number  of  the  prisoners 
were  marched  off,  as  Gilbert  was  informed,  to  Canada. 
With  respect  to  himself  he,  together  with  his  family,  were 
permitted  to  remain  at  the  Catanyan  town,  even  after  all 
the  other  families  were  s-ent  off,  some  of  them  separated 


Tilt:     \\  ilio  ::  \  Kss 

from  each  other,  to  different  directions.      This    \v:is  a  favor 
tor  \\h:;-li    in1    <-o'.dd  not  account,    !nil    wli!<-h    "•","    'inn  thi 

••led. 

.    whoso    mmd    Ind    been    greatlv    shaken    bv    !icr 
-,  soon    began    to    n  co\  er   her  s<      niU   after  the 
dep.';-,u;v  <;f  til!-  other  prisoners;   ami  permitted  as  she  was 
to    cnjo\    the    society  of  her   children    and    her  Gilbert, 
ihoi>!:';ii    n    in  !:.;••  ..it  ( 'f'd  a!    thai   fi  -D\  idcr.f  e  which 

h  <d  been  HO  much  kind'  r  to  her  than  to  so  many  others  ol 
hui'  companions  in  mi.-Yoriime.  Gilbert's  mind,  also,  on 
this  occasion  touk  a  pious  turn,  so  that  both  husband  and 
\\iie  ft -It  in  th°ir  adversity,  a  disposition  to  religious  exer- 
ci  ;-  .  to  which,  (hiriuo-  tlic  pi-i'iod  of  th.'ir  prosperity,  they 
had  hcon  strani^cM's.  !Siich  ibelintrs  are  natural,  and  could 
!•;•  easily  :;i-c'>nnvd  'or,  hut  it  is  i:ot  the  pro\ince  of  a 
;o  do  i.  Elis  du'v  ohliiros  him  onlj  !o  slate  die 
fact,  and  leave  u  to  lh<  dier,  or  rather,  perhaps,  the 

divine,  t.>  discover  the  c   use. 

Al'honirh  (ulnei'i  and  his  family  had  been  exempted  from 
many  of  the  severities  which  ihcv  saw  inilicird  upon  their 
unfortunate  fellow-prisoners,  tiieir  niiruls  \vere  sail  much 
;iLritat''d  \viih  apprehension;  ibr  \l\c\-  knew  not  how  soon 
so  capricious  a  people  as  the  Indians,  would  take  it  into 
their  heads  lo  tunneii!.  and.  perhaps,  destroy  them.  But 
the  same  religions  feelings  whicii  made  tliem  iha.iikful  to 
lieavei!  for  the  repriru-  they  had  ol)taineil,  inspired  them 
also  widi  hopes  of  continued  protection  and  final  de- 
li\  erauce. 

Hut  Gilbert's  mind  was  not  so  entirely  engrossed  will; 
his  own  concerns,  as  to  spare  no  feelings  of  sympathy  for 
thr-  more  disastrous  late  of  his  neighbors;  and  he  was  con 
siderably  puzzled  to  account  for  some  who  had  been  more 
riind,  at  least  in  the  externals  of  religion,  and  full  as  at- 
ten'.ive  to  moral  appearances  as  himself,  comincf  off  so  much 
\vorse  ll;::n  he  did. 

••Ah!    )'    is  a  u'    ;!iiii;V."     said    }\.-    to    [\illv,    "  to 

ihmk     ho\\     H;    \     \\  rmitted    to    hum    dial    holy    man, 

MaMhrw  Morrison,  ii::;1  ihe\  say  never  missed  makin' 
famd\  \voivliip  three  time  a  dav  since  he  hcjran  hoose- 
kcepii!\  an'  \  et  to  owrelook  a  caulriie  memher  o'  the  kirk 


I  111       \\  II.|»M;\  I 


like  me,  an'   no  ~a  nnickle  as  brak*  a  bane   m   ur    lunlv  ' 

"Matthew  Morrison  was  (it  for  heaven,  an'  the  Lord 
took  him,"  was  Nelly's  reply;  "but  he  has  gi'en  ye  time 
to  repent — " 

"An'  oh!  that  he  would  gin  grace  wi't !"  returned  Gil 
bert,  "  baith  to  make  me  thankfu'  for't,  an'  to  use  it  richt." 

"Ay,  ay,  Gilbert,"  she  observed — "we  should  aye  In 
constant  in  prayin'  tor  his  grace,  baith  to  pardon  us  an'  to 
guide  us,  tor  ye  ken  they're  weel  guided,  that  He  guides/' 

In  this  manner  did  Gilbert  and  his  wife  frequently  con- 
' verse  and  encourage  each  other,  on  this  occasion;  and  al 
though  their  minds  were  naturally  much  agitated  with  fears 
and  doubts,  they  were  still  supported  by  the  kindly  influ 
ence  of  piety  and  hope. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  Gilbert  discovered  the 
agent  to  whom,  under  Providence,  he  was  indebted  tor  the 
favor  he  had  experienced  from  the  Indians.  A  French 
oliicer  came  one  day  into  his  tent,  and,  to  his  great  surprise, 
addressed  him  in  English. 

"  1  have  been  the  means,"  said  he,  "  of  preventing  you 
and  your  family  from  being  sent  to  Canada,  and  1  wish 
a  favor  in  return." 

"  A  favor,  your  honor  !"  replied  Gilbert,  who  instantly 
felt  the  workings  of  gratitude  in  his  heart.  "A  favor — ay! 
that  you  shall — only  tell  me  how  1  maun  do  it,  an'  I'll  rin 
owre  the  worl'  to  oblige  ye." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  send  you  quite  so  far,"  returned  the 
officer,  "but,  if  you  would  have  no  objection  to  part  with 
your  wife  for  a  few  weeks,  1  liave  occasion  for  her 
services." 

At  this  Gilbert  bent  his  head,  and  looked  somewhat 
glum,  which  the  officer  observing,  corrected  his  phrase 
ology,  by  saying — "But  no — I  will  not  separate  you  from 
her.  I'll  obtain  permission  for  you  also  to  go — and  your 
children  ;  you  will  all  be  as  secure  there  as  here." 

"An'  whar  do  you  want  us  to  gang ? — an'  what  want 
ye  wi'  Nelly?"  asked  Gilbert,  in  a  tone  half  angry,  and 
half  fearful. 

The  officer  perceived  the  state  of  his  feelings,  and  wiili 
a  smile  observed — "  I  shall  answer  your  last  question  first, 


HS  I  behcve  you  consider  it  the  most  important,  it  is  ;i 
female,  and  to  he  plain  with  you,  my  own  wii'e,  who 
•\vishcs  at  present  Tor  the  society  and  attendance  of  a  white 
woman.  She  is  far  advanced  in  pregnancy,  and  is  unfor 
tunately  surrounded  altogether  by  Indians,  for  the  presence 
of  whoso  females,  on  the  occasion  she  so  soon  expects,  she 
has  the  utmost  aversion.  When  I  perceived  your  wife 
among  the  prisoners,  a  married  woman,  the  mother  of  chil 
dren,  and  of  decent,  rcspectahle  appearance  and  demeanor, 
I  at  once  conceived  that  she  would  make  a  suitable  com 
panion  for  mine  under  present  circumstances  ;  and,  there 
fore,  I  successfully  exerted  myself  to  prevent,  your  being 
sent  away  with  the  other  prisoners.  As  to  your  first 
question — where  I  wish  to  send  you?  My  wife  is  at 
present  under  the  protection  of  an  Indian  Queen,  who 
resides  on  the  bank  of  the  Monongahela,  a  large  river 
about  forty  miles  distant." 

Durinjr  this  statement,  (he  conntcnanc.es  of  both  Gilbert 
and  his  wife  brightened  into  an  expression  of  delight,  which 
perfectly  satisfied  the  officer  that,  they  would  cheerfully  and 
thankfully  comply  with  his  wishes. 

"  We  will  attend  ye,  sir,"  replied  Gilbert,  instinctively 
reaching  for  his  hat,  of  which  the  Indians  had  not  deprived 
h;m.  and  which  now  lav  on  a  short  log  that  was  used  inside 
ol'  the  lent  for  a  sea! — il  ves,  your  honor" — said  lie,  clap 
ping  il  on  his  head,  and  making  a  motion  to  march  forward 
— "we  will  attend  you,  or  your  sweet  wile,  bv  nicht  or  bv 
day,  in  a'  weathers,  an'  wbare'er  ye  like  to  send  us." 

Nelly  also  assured  him  of  the  care  and  zeal  with  which 
she  would  serve  his  wife,  in  order  to  make  some  return  for 
what  he  had  done  for  them. 

The  next  morning,  therefore,  the  officer  accompanied 
them  lo  the  residence  of  Queen  A  lliipiippa,  a  short  distail1'!- 
nboxc  Tin  lie  Creek,  near  the  Monongahrla  river. 


CHAPTER   II. 


"utthoii  poor  \vkIowM  bird  that  quivering  secst. 
Vt  one  fell  swoop  thv  dwelling  desolate, 
'/h  !  what   shall  comfort   then,  tliou  o'er  thy  nest, 
In   vain  may'st  chirp  and  call  for  th\    lost  mau — 

BROMLEY. 

IN  a  reasonable  time  our  party  arrived  at  the  royal  wio- 
H'am  of  Alliquippa.  l»eader  !  >tartle  not  at  the  word  royal 
— for  why  should  not  a  wiinvani  he  royal  as  well  as  a  pal 
ace,  when  it  is  the  residence  of  a  queen?  If  we  believe 
those  who  conceive  that  royalty  altogether  consists  in  a 
fair,  uncorrupted  descent  of  leir.timate  blood  from  enthroned 
ancestors,  or  in  th;'  title  o'iven  by  a  blood  thirsty  sword, 
"to  the  supreme  authority  of  a  conquered  country,  then 
it  has  nothing  move  to  do  whh  a  mansion  built  of  marble 
and  covered  with  <n>!d,  than  with  a  hut  constructed  of  oak 
bark,  and  covered  with  rush  mats,  except  this,  that  when 
ever  it  can, lor  it  is  a  very  ss  llish  principle,  it  secures  to  it 
self  residences  of  the  former  kind.  .Hut  setting  abstraci 
reasoning  aside,  lor  1  hate  it  in  a  novel,  we  hear  of  royal 
gardens,  royal  forests,  royal  theatres,  royal  fish-ponds,  roy 
al  stables,  and  ro\  al  hojr-sties — and  surely,  dear  reader,  you 
will  tolerate  a  far  more  decent  and  respectable  phrase  than 
some  of  these — a  ro\al  wigwam.  Alliquippa' s  royal  resi 
dence,  when  Gilbert  \isitedit  on  this  occasion,  was  not, 
indeed,  so  cosily  and  magnificent  a  building,  as  the  good 
people  of  New  \  ork  and  Philadelphia  have,  no  doubt,  hith 
erto  fancied  a  royal  residence  to  be  !  for  their  ideas  on  this 
subject  are  full  as  elevated  as  those  of  the  Londoner.-,  Dub- 
liners,  or  Edinburghers  themselves,  AV!IO  arc  every  day 
blest  with  the  sight  of  ro^  al  fabrics  in  abundance.  Rut  1 
would  have  the  New- York.--;  and  Philadelphia!!.11  to  know. 


ivaai  in  their  republican  ignorance  they,  perhaps,  do  am,  bin 
vvhat  the  Londoners,  Dubliners,  and  Edinburghcrd,  knou 
well,  that  the  presence  of  ;i  royal  personage  lias  the  \irfuc, 
no!  indeed  oi  the  philosopher's  stone,  to  transmute  every 
thing  into  gold — but  of  Adam's  seeds  and  animals,  to  pro 
duce  every  thine1  after  its  own  kind,  and  consequently  to 
make  all  things  royal.  Hence  Aliquippa,  whose  blood  is 
stated  by  the  ancient  chronicles  lately  fished  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  Monongahela,  to  have  been  as  purely  royal 
as  a  descent  of  upwards  of  forty  generations  could  make  il, 
was  undoubtedly  capable  of  making  the  wigwam  that  had 
(he  honor  of  holding  her  royal  person,  a  roi/al  wigwam. 

Having  settled  this  important  point,  we  shall  introduce 
(Jilbert  and  his  family  to  her  majesty,  who  received  them 
graciously,  and  presented  each  of  them  with  a  string  of 
heads  made  of  red  berries,  in  token  of  her  royal  favor.  She 
was  seated  on  a  conveniently  formed  block  of  wood,  aboui 
eighteen  inches  high,  covered  with  a  neat  mat,  in  the  outer 
apartment  of  the  wigwam, —  for  this  edifice,  although  the 
generality  of  its  species  contain  only  one  apartment,  hap 
pened  to  contain  two,  the  additional  one  having  been  con 
structed  at  the  request  of  the  French  officer  for  the  accom 
modation  of  his  wife,  of  whom  we  shall  directly  take  notice. 
Hut  we  must  finish  our  respects  1o  her  majesty.  She  was 
a  widow,  and  still  young,  and  considerably  hand38omc.  Her 
manner  united  dignity  with  affability,  and  her  personal  at 
tractions  had  lately  induced  several  chiefs  and  <rreat  men  to 
solicit  her  in  marriage.  At  the  present  time,  her  most  en 
couraged  lover  was  king  Shingiss,  a  young  warrior  whose 
residence  was  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Ohio,  about  two 
miles  bclo\-.  the  confluence  of  tbe  Alleohanv  and  the  Mo 
nongahela — and  it  was  so  confidently  believed  that  I)'1 
would  succeed  in  obtaining  her,  that  almost  all  her  otiiri 
lo\ers  hnd  relinquished  in  his  favor.  Hem;:,  however, 
somewhat  like  ihe  British  queen  Elizabeth  in  her  dispo.:i 
lion,  loud  of  being  admired,  but  fonder  of  being  obeyed,  she 
acted  much  in  the  same  manner,  by  encouraging  lovers,  but. 
keeping  free  from  a  husband.  Her  trine,  which  was  called 
the  Shannoahs,  was  in  complete. and  satisfied  subjection  to 
h'T  authorit,  and  lhal  anlhorjly  she  was  resolved  neither  lo 


nt.r.  •\VIUIKKM,-. 

depute  nor  divide  with  any  one.  As  however,  Shingiss  was 
much  devoted  to  her,  she  contrived  to  keep  alive  his  hopes 
no  long,  that  he  never  sought  any  other  for  a  wife,  and  after 
a  courtship  of  nearly  thirty  years,  he  died  a  bachelor.  Shr 
was  dressed,  when  Gilbert  first  saw  her,  in  rather  a  .showy 
costume.  A  kind  of  diadem  made  of  the  red  feathers  of  the 
flamingo  plaited  together,  encircled  her  brows,  and,  in  sorno 
parts  seemed  to  be  fancifully  enwreathed  with  her  hair 
which  was  very  plentiful,  and  of  a  brilliant  jet  color.  A 
large  splendid  crystal  hung  pendant  from  each  ear;  and  from 
her  neck,  which,  as  well  as  a  considerable  part  of  her  breast, 
was  bare,  hung  a  glittering  chain  of  variegated  beads.  Tier 
elbows  and  wrists  were  surrounded  with  scarlet  hands  made 
of  dyed  skins,  and  ornamented  with  beads'.  A  kind  of  gown, 
or  wrapper  fabricated  from  a  large  silk  shawl,  of  which  thr 
French  officer's  lady  had  made  her  a  present,  covered  her 
bodv  from  the  breast  downwards,  being  suspended  to  the 
shoulders  by  straps  of  beaver  skin,  so  formed  as  to  have  the 
fur  on  both  sides.  This  garment  was  also  fastened  round 
her  waist  by  a  beautiful  fur  belt  of  various  colors  secured 
with  silver  clasps.  Light  colored  moccasins  of  deer  skin 
covered  her  feet,  and  completed  an  arrangement  of  dress,  of 
which  Alliquippa  was  as  proud  as  ever  queen  Elizabeth  was 
of  her  court-day  robes. 

The  ceremony  of  introducing  the  strangers  to  her  Shan- 
noah  majesty  being  over,  she  addressed  the  French  officer 
as  follows. 

"My  Brother, 

"I  am  glad  you  arc  come  back  so  soon.  My  sister — 
your  M'ifc — was  cast  down  in  your  absence.  But  I  could 
not  blame  her — for  I  remember  when  Shanalow,  my  hus 
band,  went  first  to  hunt,  after  our  marriage,  1  was  disconso 
late,  and  dreamed  every  night  of  evil  till  hr  returned.  He 
JH  now  gone  to  his  fathers,  and  .  shall  never  more  return. 
But  he  died  of  a  breast-wound  fighting  the  Otawas,  and  our 
whole  tribe  has  praised  him. 

"Brother!  you  did  well  to  bring  these  people — your  wife 
will  be  better  pleased  with  a  woman  of  the  east,  than  with 
my  squaws.  You  will  tell"  nic  at  another  time,  why  th< 
rising  sun  ;:ivcy  a  fairer  .'-kin  than  the  setting. 


-•  I'roiiici- !  1  shall  order  provisions  lor  your  people.  But 
your  wife  wishes  for  your  conversation.  1  shall  detain  you 
uo  longer  tli.iu  to  request,  that  until  the;  Great  Spirit  makes 
you  a  lather,  you  will  be  free  to  tell  me  your  wants,  and 
use  my  wigwam  and  my  people  as  your  own." 

The  officer  made  a  suitable  reply,  and  the  conversation, 
descending  from  the  stateliness  of  ceremony,  became  pro 
miscuous  and  familiar. 

Nelly  soon  became  much  attached  to  the  officer's  lady, 
who  was,  indeed,  as  sweet  and  lovely  a  woman  as  the  sun 
ever  beheld.  They  had,  at  first,  some  difficulty  in  under 
standing  each  other's  discourse,  for  the  lady,  who  was  a 
French  woman,  spoke  but  imperfect  English;  and  with  re 
spect  to  Xelly's  English,  she  scarcely  knew  one  word  in 
ten.  But  minds  that  are  disposed  to  accommodate  each 
other  soon  overcome  difficulties  of  this  kind;  and  A'elly  and 
her  mistress,  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours'  acquaintance, 
contrived  not  only  to  be  mutually  intelligible,  but  mutually 
agreeable  and  interesting. 

As  to  Gilbert,  his  habits  of  industry  while  he  resided  on 
the  Jiiiiiata,  rendered  his  present  prospect  of  idleness  irk 
some,  and  perceiving  at  the  junction  of  Turtle  Creek  with 
the  Alonongahela,  a  short  distance  from  the  wigwam,  a  suit 
able  place  for  building  a  log  cabin,  which  he  thought  would 
be  a  more  convinent  residence  for  the  French  lady  on  the 
approaching  occasion,  he  proposed  to  her  husband  to  erect 
one,  which,  with  the  aid  of  a  few  axes  and  a  few  Indians, 
he  said  he  could  do,  so  as  to  make  it  considerably  more 
commodious  than  the  wigwam,  in  a  single  week.  The  of 
ficer  gladly  acceded  to  the  proposal,  and  procured  from  Alli- 
quippa,  not  only  permission  for  Gilbert  to  build  the  house, 
but  also  a  grant  to  him  of  several  hundred  acres  of  the  land 
around  it. 

Gilbert  knew  too  well  how  to  appreciate  this  unexpected 
piece  of  good  fortune,  not  to  turn  it  to  advantage,  lie  im 
mediately  commenced  building  his  house,  and  as  the  queen 
directed  a  number  ot  her  Indians  to  assist  him.  it  was  com 
pleted  in  more  comfortable  style,  and  in  a  shorter  time,  than 
ihe  officer  had  conceived  to  be  possible.  His  lady  was  con- 
vt-yed  into  it  ;  but  m  a  few  days,  her  husband's  joy  at  lind 


ing  lur  so  conveniently  lodged,  was  turned  into  grief-  -into 
distraction — by  Her  death  in  giving  birth  to  a  daughter  ? 

On  the  first  intelligence  of  this  event,  he  sunk  to  the  earth 
overpowered  with  anguish;  but  recovering  his  muscular 
energy  he  suddenly  arose,  hastened  to  the  beloved  corpse, 
and  pressed  it  to  his  bosom  in  an  agony  of  sorrow.  Tears 
now  gushed  from  his  eyes,  and  to  all  appearance  he  became 
somewhat  calmed.  lie  asked  to  see  his  infant.  Nelly 
brought  it  forward.  He  kissed  it  with  an  almost  convulsive 
fervor,  and  burst  again  into  tears.  He  then  withdrew  to  a 
bench  on  which,  with  his  throbbing  temples  pressed  between 
his  hands,  he  sat  in  silent  anguish  for  a  short  time.  He 
then  started  to  his  feet. 

"Mrs.  Frazier,"  said  he,  "dreadful,  dreadful  has  been  my 
loss  !  and  dreadful  has  it  been  to  that  infant !  1  have  lost — 
but  oh  !  I  need  not  now  recount  her  virtues,  her  loveliness, 
her  tenderness!  The  world  now  has  nothing  for  me  ! — But 

what  will  become    of   this Oh  !     God  ! — God  !   support 

me!  Oh  !  protect  this  tender  plant!  Nelly,  I  conjure  you 
to  be  its  mother,  for  it  has  now  none  else.  And  you,  my 
friend  !"  he  here  caught  Gilbert  by  the  hand,  "be  you  in 
place  of  that  unhappy  father,  who  is  now  unlit  to  look  after 
it — here,  here!"  So  saying,  he  ran  to  one  of  his  wife's 
trunks, — -'here,  take  this,"  and  he  cast  a  purse  of  gold  upon 
a  table,  "and  whatever  else  these  trunks  contain — support 
my  child — bury  my  wife  decently.  Oh,  (Joel  !  her,  grave 
will  be  here  in  the  wilderness,  but  her  soul  is  with  then  in 
heaven!  He  again  ran  hastily  to  the  coi  pse,  and  embracing 

it    for    several     minutes, "Farewell,    farewell  '''     lie    at 

length  exclaimed,  and  hurried  out  of  the  house. 

Gilbert,  aftei  a  moment's  deliberation,  followed  him,  for 
he  saw  him  in  a  lit  of  frenzy,  and  dreaded  his  committing 
some  rash  and  fatal  deed.  But  he  had  disappeared,  and 
Gilbert  perceiving  from  the  thickness  and  intricacy  of  the 
woods,  that  pursuit  would  be  fruitless,  soon  returned  to 
console  and  assist  his  wife,  whom  grief  had  rendered  almost 
unable  to  attend  to  her  domestic  duties. 

Alliquippa,  who  was  much  affected  with  these  distressing 
occurrences,  attended  herself,  and  ordered  a  nurnlu-v  of  hn 
tribe  to  assist  at  the  funeral  of  her  deceased  friend,  whjcii 


:  n  I       V,  1  1  in  i:  \  I  -,- 


readilv  did:   so  that  Gilbert  had  the  satisfaction  to  ^ee 
i:'1  remains  ot   ibis   unfortunate   hd\      •  I   in  tin-  earth 

in  a^  decent  ami  respectable  a  manner  as  the  circumstances 
of  tiic  time  11  rid  !>;.;        ••    FuTd  admi-. 

As  to  the  infant   whom  1'iv-  :  iro\vn  upon 

liis  can  !  •    both  to  do  for  it 

cherish   for  it  a  fath  •  nd   on   convei  ' 

with  hi-;  \vife,  lc..-  found    her  not  onh    i\  adv  to  approve,  but 

•  oiicitoiis  to   jjprluriu.    every  benevolenl    \\'ish   he   had   con- 

•  •fixed    in    its  favor.      The   liu!^   orplian,    therefore,   whom 
they  named    Maria,  as  its  mother   hail    been    so  called,  thev 
resolved  to  esteem  as  tln-ir   o\vn   oflisprinsj,   and    provide  for 
n  accordinifly. 

1  1  w  a  s  now  a 

,   ther   tht'\   should    determine    10    in 

:•!.-,!<•(•    un    tin  •     ••  lien'    l'rovi(!ence    b-n! 

•'    th    in,     ir    ••     d   avov    to   obtain    permi.-sion    ti-iMii    ihc 

•  t,>  reiiirn  l'>  '.  ner    [labilation   on  the  Juniata. 

••I  c:\nn;\  wt-el  tell.    jNell'y,"    s;.:d   iir.    "v/!iat's  best  to  be 

done.      (lin  we  stay  here,  we    mav  ne'er   see   the  face   u'  a 

iel    ('hrisiiiin    a^ain,   unle.sa  n  may  !)•••  seme   blackjjuurd 

trader,    drappin  t\\'ice    a  •    ion    t'ie    n\er,    to 

•  furs,      i  ed    lliem   traders 

'ricked 


. 

\\  .'    can    v.  or>hi  i)   as    il  .        i'!s    m    oor   am 

led  ;     "  lof  •     be    an'    bis 

T    \\'  il'i  I    (xij- 

111  mi.-  ier  at    ill?1         •  -  '    ;  i    v  • 

tin-    I  jord  .  ,  \    a!  o.n   :  .  lie  will   be  Ian' 

:'!•.   as  in  u  temple,  b\    \\'iiii:\   he  meant  a  church 
orai:'"';"''-.  .       '••'.  •   i-..  k'   i',  i:i;  •  \  o' 

Soioiiio'i  as    bunil     laii'>-    ?.\  lie    lit    tbe  da\> 

(}'  ibe  Jews  i   leaf   nnieiJe  \\iiether    the    savages 

will  ij'ie.  ns  leave  !•.•  ,v  ;  an    \  <•  lien  it  s  an  unco  ro;u!." 

••Ah!   1   \'/fci   ken  ll  'd  she;    "ii's  na   road  ava.       In 

|rel:iipi.    \'.T    had    lietler   apes   thi'i  iil<>ll    'be   pe:i!    bno's." 


1  111      VvTI.Ul  1<  -,  t  •_  , 

11  Ah!  ilmir.i  talk  o'  Ireland,"    he  replied.  draM 
sigh  :  r   iiku  tim 

••  nee- 

•  • 

weans    v.  1'    us.       Think   o  t. 
Nelly  !- " 

"1  do  lliink  n't,''  sho  replied  :   '•  1  (loot  muckle  we  main, 
bide  IIP;';'                    :  -;son   ;it.   ony  rate.      We  canna   think  o' 
th:1    ro.id    just  1100.  on'    we   hae   a   decent    bi^oiii    o\vr 
heads  <  •  i;s  liil  UM-  siirnncr  couics " 

•'An'    i'jn   uiiukm'  il  (iii'or-rt,    "thai  \v< 

• 
• 

IP  contJiHi 

liiu.-k  in   search  o'    j  P.      ( •  ilhort  '    • 

\vra»g  t-. >  jrajiij  aii.      '!';=  in  >   jnnul   lua1.'  conic    i>> 

him    ai;'aiii,    au'    I:-1    sna  ,    .  lua  kt-.i 

\vhar 


the  Juuiatn  ^^;^.-  na.^  oor  ain  cii'ncr;   an'    ih>' 
l.x'cii  a    ruined  ;   ;  ,-i'  .  int,  1  tliiii  !. 

\ve   had   as    u-a  .         .  .    lo    fence 

a\vcc,  an'  chap  wood,  :  n  .  order  K;  rank'' 

us  leevin-,:  ..,   ihe  winter;    an',  wi*  tiic  Idessin"  o' 

God,  we'll  tr     to  Its  content  an'  thanki'uY' 


thai    course   of  indu^iry  Avhich.    ic   a   sliori    time   created   ;; 
smiling   :md   comfortable  farm   ror  and  wliich,   in  :: 

fc\v    \  eai's,    atiached    liiin    so    luiu'ti    \->   liie    place,    ilia;    (;•: 
abanduiiod  alt  ihongliis  of  over  leaving'  it. 

Alliquippa    ami  her   Iiuiicuss    continued  friendly  to   him. 
and  occasionally  assisted  hiin  iniiie  heavier  exeriiuns  whieii 
his   impro\ements    reqnireii  ;    bni   their   haiiiis  \vere   too  u:; 
*ie;ni\    ami    nncalcnlaiino.    r,er    lo    imitaic    him    i>\     inakiii" 


<i!    their  own.      Besides.  the\  were  nou   almo-t  enu 


,     >  either    pi;  -    •       •        *  '         ••     •    • 

'. 

.••.:••••.    Y,  .;.".. •  ',    wi'iV 

hh'o    more  and  11101  •  'noun- 

i,i    the    great  barrier    between    tho 

eastern  ami  western  pnriions  of  the,  continent,  and  to  the 
eastern  portion  of  which  the  Indians  we  IT  resolved,  it  pos 
sible,  to  eonime  them. 

flistnn    inform;'   i;s.   tl:;;t  ilie  s-'reneh.  who.  ai   tint-'   time, 

'    the    whole   of   \\"cstcrn  AinfTi'-n.   from    Qur-lu'-'c-   to 

V--,v   Orietins,    v       •      ••    "    ver\"   i:  in    urging;   thf 

;-^h  set- 
•  war- 
• 
• 

']""••  .    • 

>    !iU  111- 

i[\,".'';    i.ij<-m,  oi'ien   uai!('('!'.>s;irii\  ,  ; 

•  ii  >v  :,  \  .-:  r.  ;..-,.    hloo;l    •, .  ; . !,  blood,  and  ouUv.gT,  \vilh  outrage, 
in    ilic   savage   siaic   ihe  iecliug   oi'    re\i-ng(>   is.   perhaps. 
tin1   strong's;  and    most    inveterate   ih.M    •  the  nun;!--, 

rspeciali;,    -  [e ;    and,    jH'a\en    k;h)ws,    the 

iiii!(jrtrii!;iin     i;;;  in    long- 

M'lthonl     su:i:'n!i;i'     anuiuniire    oi      ;  li;;: 

— a  l(-f'i:t:L!"  ;\i!i'"n  noi  onl\   their  naiii  nellies, 

bui    ih'-ir  relio'ioi  H    iheni   to    !;elie\  e    that    ii 

\\  as  meritorious  io  ;;  ra  lily.  Li  is  re;isonai)le  also  tu  suppose, 
ih:M  a  ia>ie  for  pilinge  must  have  l.ad  its  inlluence  upon 
mnnuers  of  tim>e  improvident  and  homeless  waniors,  \v!io 
we  IT.  en<_raii"d  in  die  san^i!inar\  depredaiions  so  fretjiUMid; 
i-ominitted  on  tSie  white  inhabitants  of  the  frontier  setde- 
'  I'ennsN  l\;iiii:v  aiui  \  ir^inia  during'  tlie  middle 
Urn-.  \  ;  ;n;d.  a!  liie  prc  s<  nl  da  \',  wlien  \\  e 

mil  cl     liii.i     , ,.    .         ,          inu.-l     ha\  i      >      peeled     such 

dc'precia.tions,    ,  .,     astonish    i.s     how    I'U'N    could 

possess  li;ii\!iho(.<d  anil  i.oldnes.s  eii.r.iiMi  to  e:\[).>se  lioth 
Ilifinsi'i  ,'es  and  their  lain!  H  -  b\  lh  u  perpetual  ;id\anee> 
to  the  dangerous  \iciiiil\  of  then  barbjiou-  foes,  to  Mi.'li 


imminent  hazard  of  destruction.     But,  in  turn -.•=-.  <,t'  da 
there  is  an  excitement  oil  'ii       oduced  in  the  minds  of  men, 
which   enables   them    to   encounter,  n.-iy  sometimes  M  court 

;s    :nid    hardships,  from    the   bare  idea  of    which 
would    !>••  :•      '  IPS  to  shrink  with   horror   and 

dismay;  and  there  h  uces- — —hut  a  truce  with 

philosophising!- — I  must   OQ   on  with   rny  storv;    and    shall 
for  that  purpose,  open  another  chapter. 


III. 


llejiia  i  r-ss  <;!;iy, 

i  !)O  ({j^arnii  in  souu'lit, 

A,  i  id  in-',!  tin.'  cJ<  i  he      i 


Ai,Tiioi;i.;u  separated  trorn  i!itj    v.'ari.l  oi    (.-hri«tians,  .-is  he 
conr-rived  him«clf.  (lilhcrt  f't-.v/ifr  icii  ihnt  uniidst  his  pechi- 
•••iniK  ho  no?e:-«o;i  mnnv   comlorfs,  :ind  lie   \\-;is  tlinjih-'-,  • 
tlifMii.      ! 'is   farm    advriiic^d  yoarlv  in    iuiprovcnifiit.  and  i1- 
prodiico  in  vaiuc:  for  i>r!iiv:   ID  'iiltivntor   oi    ilir 

soi!  for  many  day's  jouvnrv  around  him,  and  living  com  ••- 
iiicnt  to  :!  iKiviy.'-hle  river,  v.'rnch  \v,s,  even  liien,  a  consider 
able  thorouijhiare  to  those  adventurous  spiriis  who  trailed 
with,  liie  Indiana,  he  could  ahv;iy:s  \vilhou!  diliiculty,  make  a 
readv  and  profitable  sale  of  his  surplus  produce.  \\  ilii  re 
spect  to  security,  in  eiilier  lii'o  or  property,  he  i'eit  pcrfecdy 
•it  f;t';".  ]]r  kiieu-  thnl  Mliquippn  and  her  lover  Shin<"ri  •-. 


\\cre  both  his  friends  and  declared  protectors  ;  beMdes 
which,  his  own  inoffensive  conduct,  not  to  speak  of  his  use- 
till  industry  and  occupation,  from  which  all  classes  of  the 
nc'iffhhorinsf  Indians  had,  at  one  time  or  other,  derived  some 
benefit,  had  interested  them  in  his  prosperity,  and  excited 
for  him  such  a  feeling  of  attachment  that  they  would  have 
been  ready  to  avenjje  his  cause,  had  any  one,  even  of  them 
selves,  attempted  to  injure  him. 

With  respect  to  his  children,  they  increased  in  years  and 
strength,  but  not  in  number,  for  Nelly  had  given  him  none 
since  tier  settling  in  "The  Wilderness."  His  eldest  son, 
Patrick,  the  Philadelphia!!,  we  have  before  mentioned,  was 
soon  able  to  assist  him  in  farming,  which  he  did  pretty  at 
tentively  until  he  became  seventeen  or  eighteei}  years  old, 
when,  being  of  a  temper  far  more  restless,  daring,  and 
shrewd  than  his  father,  he  manifested  a  disposition  for  traf 
fic  rather  than  labor ;  and,  contrary  to  his  father's  wishes, 
spent  a  great  portion  of  his  time  in  rambling  over  the  coun 
try,  and  dealing  with  both  Indians  and  white  people,  as 
chance  afforded  an  opportunity.  My  this  time,  however,  his 
younger  brother,  who  was  called  Archy,  was  able  to  fill  his 
place  on  the  farm,  so  that  the  old  man's  industry  suffered 
but  little  inconvenience  from  the  defection  of  his  iirst-born. 

His  daughter  whose  name  was  \  .nicy,  was  the  youngest 
of  his  three  children,  and  but  one  year  older  than  the  little 
orphan  Maria,  whom  Providence,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
thrown  upon  his  care  and  affections  under  circumstances  so 
well  calculated  to  excitethem.  Nancy  HIT w  up  to  be  a  pretty 
vouiiLr  woman,  the  picture  of  health  and  good  humor,  with 
well-rounded  regular  features,  <jlan<-in<r  eves,  smiling  aspect, 
md  rosy  complexion.  She  was  an  open-hearted,  honest 
•reature,  with  little  penetration,  and  less  suspicion  ;  one, 
•vho,  had  she  lived  in  wh.it  is  called  the  "civilized  work!," 
would  have  been  better  calculated  to  enjoy  it,  than  to  thrive 
.11  it;  but  for  that  description  of  world  where  her  lot  was 
•ast,  she  was  well  adapted.  There  she  miuht  roam  the 
voods  in  safety  without  fear  of  a  betrayer,  and  indulge  her 
thoughtless  gayety  without  <Mvin<i  offence.  Her  affections 
A'ere  warm,  hut  her  sensibility  not  extremely  acute,  for  al- 
'hone!)  she  may  have  been  'nid  to  have  loved  almost  everv 


I  111       \\  II.KKKNi:.-.-. 


one  with  whom  she  find  become  acquainted,   yet    then  iiu; 
fortunes,  though  they    might  cloud,    could  not  obliterate  her 
bias    to  math  and    hilarity.      In    short,   she   was  like  many 
of  her  sex,  more  fitted  for  love   than  for  hatred,    and  for  joy 
than  for  sorrow. 

Such  was  the  young  female  who  had  been  from  her  in 
fancy,  the  companion  of  Maria  Frazier,  for  so  we  must  at 
present  call  the  little  orphan  who  had  been  taught  to  call 
our  friend  Gilbert  father,  since  by  that  name  every  body 
knew  her  so  far  as  she  was  known.  During  her  childhood, 
Maria  was  of  very  playful  disposition,  partaking  much  of  the 
vivacity  of  her  sister — for  the  two  girls  long  conceived  them 
selves  to  be  really  sisters — but  she  was  too  timid  to  join  in 
many  of  her  freaks  ;  and,  although  she  was  the  younger, 
her  superior  prudence  and  discernment  had  imperceptibly 
acquired  for  her  a  degree  of  control  over  the  other,  to  which 
JNancy  had  become  so  habituated,  and  which,  indeed,  was 
always  exerted  with  so  much  good  nature  aiul  kindness,  that 
it  never  caused  her  any  soreness  of  feeling,  while  it  had 
often  the  effect  of  preserving  her  from  indiscretions. 

Although  in  their  persons  these  two  young  women  were 
both  highly  attractive,  their  attractions  differed  much  both 
in  kind  and  degree.  Nancy  was,  if  any  thin^,  rather  robust 
and  stout  in  her  appearance  to  suit  the  general  idea  of  sym 
metrical  beauty;  yet  to  many  tastes,  that  firmness  and  solidi 
ty  of  frame  which  was  the  consequence  of  this  slight  varia 
tion  to  the  side  of  plumpness  and  vigor  was  rather  pleasing 
than  otherwise.  Her  countenance,  like  her  person,  was 
also,  perhaps,  too  much  rounded  and  full  to  entitle  her  to  the 
character  of  a  finished  beauty  ;  but  from  its  regularity  in  its 
individual  features,  and  its  healthy  complexion,  together 
withtne  perpetual  expression  of  content  and  gayety  that  it 
exhibited,  it  never  failed  to  please  the  beholder.  Her  man 
ners  sometimes  possessed  a  little  too  much  forwardness  and 
familiarity  to  be  strictly  correct  and  agreeable  ;  but  these, 
most  people  would  think,  were  fully  atoned  for  by  her  inno 
cence,  archness  a;id  vivacity. 

As  to  Miria's  manneis,  if  modesty  without  coldness,  deli 
cacy  without  affectation,  affability  without  ohtrusiveuess, 
liveliness  without  pertiir-.-s •.-if  easy  dignity  und  utteuiuc 


•••oiiipiaisance  can  be  pleasing,  hers  were  eminently  so.     Her 

person  was  elegantly  proportioned,  inclining,  as  some  per 
haps  would  think,  rather  much  to  the  slender  form  of 
nymphlike  beauty,  hut  at  (he  same  time,  displaying  solidity 
and  fulness  enough  to  indicate  a  healthy  and  sound  constitu 
tion.  Her  motions  and  gestures  were  natural,  flowing  and 
harmonious.  As  to  the  charms  of  her  countenance,  they 
were  so  full  of  that  magical  attraction  which  I  have  heard 
called  the  "inexpressible  somewhat,"  and  the  impression  of 
which  no  iciness  of  heart  can  resist,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
words  to  depict  them  justly.  A  mere  delineation  of  her  ex 
quisitely-formed  features,  and  beautiful  complexion,  when 
.she  reached  the  interesting  age  of  seventeen — an  account  of 
the  bright  expression  of  her  black  eyes,  shaded  with  their 
thick  silken  eye-lashes,  and  surmounted  with  her  white  and 
polished  forehead — of  the  damask  bloom  of  her  checks,  of 
the  coral  of  her  lips,  and  the  shading  of  her  dark  ringlet.-' 
profusely  flowing  round  her  fair  temples  and  snowy  neck — 
would  afford  but  a  faint  ideaof  the  striking  loveliness,  which, 
no  doubt,  partly  emanated  from  these,  but  which  had  their 
principal  source  in  that  soul-speaking  intelligence,  that  living 
lustre  of  mind,  that  glow  of  sensibility  and  benevolence, 
which  characterized  her  looks  to  an  unrivalled  degree,  and 
made  her  the  delight,  as  well  as  the  admiration,  of  every 
beholder. 

Such  were  the  distinguishing  traits  in  the  manners  ami 
appearance  of  these  two  flowers  of  "The  Wilderness,"  that 
had  grown  lip  and  flourished  into  full  and  beauteous  bloom 
under  the  diligent  care  of  (lilbert  Fra/ier,  and  his  attentive 
and  managing  wife.  But  (hey  differed  more  in  the  extent, 
of  their  information  and  in  their  natural  aptitude  and  relish 
fur  acquiring  knowledge,  than  in  either  their  persons  or 
their  manners.  To  Nancy  the  labor  of  study  was  rather  an 
irksome  ta.^k,  while  Maria  ever  courted  it  as  her  chief dr- 
lillhf.  It  will  be  naturally  supposed  that  her  means  ot'^rat 
ifvmg  this  inclination  for  learning  must  have  been  neces 
sarily  very  limited  ;  but  Providence  furnished  her  with  them 
to  a  (jrealer  extent  than  could  have  been  expected.  A  sin 
gular  old  nnn,  named  Tonnaleuka,  whom  the  Indians  re 
garded  as  a  prophet,  frequently  made  hi',  residence  in  the 


vjcinily  of  Gilbert's  Tor  several  moiilhs  together,  and,  <,j. 
these  occasions,  took  grout  delight  in  teaching  his  children, 
and  seemed  particularly  interested  in  giving  instruction  to 
Maria,  perhaps  because  he  found  her  so  capable  and  solicit 
ous  lo  receive  it. 

lie  informed  Gilbert,  who,  on  their  first  acquaintance, 
expressed  his  astonishment  to  find  such  a  variety  and  extent 
of  information  possessed  by  an  Indian,  that  he  had,  in  his 
early  youth,  imbibed  a  great  thirst  for  knowledge  ;  in  con 
sequence  of  which  ho  had  run  off  from  his  tribe,  who  op 
posed  his  desires  in  this  particular,  and  travelled,  for  several 
years,  through  the  towns  of  New-England,  where  he  studi 
ed  the  English  language,  and  became  acquainted  with  various 
sciences.  "From  thence,"  said  he,  "I  visited  Canada,  for  the 
purpose  of  acquiring  whatever  useful  knowledge  the  French 
could  give  me.  When  in  Quebec,  the  governor,  at  his  own 
expense,  phced  me  at  a  seminary,  with  the  intention  of 
qualifying  me  to  act  as  an  emissary  among  the  Indian  tribes, 
whom  he  wished  to  secure  to  the  interests  of  his  country. 
While  there,  1  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  French  language, 
and  of  the  histories,  institutions,  and  political  views  of  the 
principal  European  nations.  1  then  returned  lo  my  own 
people,  that  1  might  gratify  the  wishes  of  my  benefactor,  the 
governor,  to  whom  I  felt  very  grateful.  My  friends  receiv 
ed  me  well,  and  fonravc  my  leaving  them,  as  they  said  it 
was  the  Great  Spirit  th;it  put  it  into  my  head,  that  1  might 
acquire  knowledge  to  direct  them  in  the  management  of  their 
affairs  with  the  white  people.  But  they  would  not  permit 
me  lo  teach  any  of  their  young  men  or  young  women  the 
sciences  I  had  learned.  "For,"  said  they,  "if  it  were  useful 
for  us  to  know  these  things,  the  Great  Spirit  would  have 
communicated  them  to  our  lathers,  and  they  would  have 
taught  us."  However  they  gave  me  credit  for  my  knowl 
edge  ;  and  whenever  1  am  among  them,  or  any  other  km 
dred  tribes,  they  consult  me  concerning  all  their  undertakings, 
and  generally  follow  my  directions.  But  1  do  not  wish  m\ 
knowledge  to  be  useless — I  am  desirous  to  communicate  il 
— and  since  the  children  of  my  own  people  will  not  hear 
my  lessons,  I  am  glad  that  yours  will." 

The  reader  nnv   wish  to  know,  how  an  event  :-u  fortunate 


I' III-:     \vrLDliRNESs  '2 

',rn  the  little    Maria,  as    Tonnaleuka's    introduction    10   her 

father's,  (Tor  she  naturally  considered  Gilbert  as  such.)  took 
plaes'.  It  happened  a'r.oui  t\vo  yer.rs  after  Gilbert's  first  set 
tlement  ;'.n  the  Monon<r;:.hrln,  and  under  the  following  cir 
cumstances.  His  sou  Patrick,  or  Padcly,  as  he  was  usurdly 
called,  who  was  then  about  twelve  years  old,  had  £oiu:  one 
clay  into  a  deep  gten,  or  defile,  about  a  mile  from  home,  to 
search  for  soir.e  eo\vs  that  h?,d  been  missing,  where,  not 


J\'ll  from  a  considerable  height,  and    broke    one    of  his  lc<js. 

His    cries  occasioned   the  appearance   of  Tonnalonka,  who 

immediately  placed  tl'ie  hov  on  hi--  shoulders,  and  caned  him 

joinr.      Gilbert  had  several  times  of  iaie   heard  of  this  Ton- 

itka,   an>l  on  oric  occasion,  a  "ie\v  '.vrrks  before,  had  seen 

*iim,hut  had  never  spoken  to  him.   Grateful  no\v  ibrihe  service 

he    had    vendrrecl    his    son,  he    invited    him   to   frequent    his 

se,  and   enjoy  his  hospitality,   whenever   bo  should  visit 

'  he  nei<rhc'0r!'.:;od. 

'•We'll,  maybe  no'  treat  yon  in  \o,,r  am  way,  wi"  roasted 
•  i  nison,  an'  sic  like,  aithr.u'jii  \ve  kill  a  deer  noo  an'  then; 
tor  v,-e  h;;'  Icev'd  r.nco  muckle  in  the  Indian  fashion,  linj- 
';\va  ye;;r  hack — hi!!,  howsomcver,  come  au'  see  us,  mv 
an'  we'll  aye  nvd."  ;-e  welcome  to  a  share  o'  what's 
gnun." 

".My  brol'ne-v,  said  Tonnalenka,  think  no!  t!:ai  I  rh^like 
your  offer — whenever  I  have  occasion,  I  \vill  accept  of  it; 
hut  [  want  yir,  to  know  that  I  do  not  acecpi  of  it  ;ls  wa'res 
for  e  irv\  in^  home  your  wounded  son.  A  virtuous  Indian 
\vill  receive  no  return  tVom  men  for  an  ac'  like  this.  If  lu 
did,  the  Great  Spirit  mi^ht  refuse  to  <rivo  him  that  reward 
which  be  expects  when  be  dies — for  In;  rewards  nvery  jjood 
deed  that  is  not  rewarded  here,  a  hundred  fold  better  lhan  • 
eiihcr  Indian  or  white  man  can.'' 

"But,  brother,  heat  ken  to  me,  I  will  (ell  you  what  I  will 
do.  I  will  take  yon  lor  my  friend,  and  because  you  are  my 
friend,  I  will  eat  at  your  table;  and  when  I  am  Imn<>ry,  if 
I  happen  to  be  near  you,  I  will  come  and  tell  YOU,  and  "you 
will  prepare  tor  me,  and  I  will  eat  as  you  oat — for  I  have 
been  among  white  people,  and  have  beer.  Uiught  to  sup  Irom 
4 


various  dishes,  find  also    io   u.se   thr    p;  ;ttnm<  nt^   of   p^fir-;.' 
emploj'ed  bv  the  nations  of  the  east. 

••Brother,  hearken  tome,  i  know  something  oi  tin  art  o 
botHJ-selting,  for  i  have  tjtndied  it  under  the  ;;reat  Mara 
looma — <n:d.  il  '  me,  !  siia.il  now  set  youi 

son's   le;r.'' 

AH  this  \vas  an  op  ra  ion  ol  which  (rie 
entirely  ignorant,  and  as  their  was  no  p 
witiiin  perhaps  a  hundred  miles  oi  him,  this 
readily  granted,  and  the  service  speedily  and  t'cxe:roush 
performed.  The  operator  daily  waited  on  ins  patient  to1 
lor  several  weeks  unlit  a  cure  was  perfectly  accomplished. 

It.  was  during  these  visits  that    tiiis    Indian  sage  appeared 
to  become  so  much  attached  to    (li'lbon's  little  g'm-s    Mr-it  in- 
resolved  to    commence    their  tutor.       He  also    extended    hi: 
benevolent  instruction.-;   to  the  boys:,  but    the  chief  object    ot 
his  care,  as  web.ave  beiore    observed,  was    tin-  link:    .Man,*, 
who,  although  (he  vounu'est  of  the  females,  soon  showed  In  i' 
self  the  UK-SI  rujK'.ble  and  wiHi;iLr  to  profit  by  his  histi'in-Pun. 
A"  she  advanced    i:i  ye. us,    lie  drew    up  for    her  use  :; 
wliich  he  entitled    -Wisdom  for  a  Young  i/idy,"    in  which 
lie  laid  clow.i  nnxiir.s    for  t!;e   re<nd:itiem  of  her    condnc!     'a 
both  a  stale  oi'   seclusion    a;ul    society,    but  particularly    tin- 
latter.      '•!''••<;•,    said    he,    fortune    may   yet   place   you   their, 
Jimonii  while  pcoj/le   like    yourself.      Wh-ile  i    hveil   : 
them,  I  found    it  was  difficult   foi     men,  but    far  nion    so  I 
women    to  act  properly.      Their    manner    of  life  is   not  like 
ouis.      Propriety  and  duiv     e.ili    for   a  thousand  tilings  to  be 
done  iimon^  them,  '.vliich  they  do  not,  require  among'  us,  and 
the  best  informed  of  their  people,    whether  male    or   female, 
cannot  at  all  tinier;  remember,  and  aUend  to  every   thing  thai 
the  multiplicity  of  their   institutions,    customs,    and    ceremo- 
.nice,  renders  incumbent  upon  the  person    who  would      11  a!! 
respects  act.   well.      :  h,  as  1  perceived    while   with 

them,  thai  no  one.  either  expects  perfeciion  from  another,  i< 
aims    at  it  himself,  «nd  this    mav    bi;   tlie    ehiet    rruise  why 
they  have  never  known  any  insirance  of  complete  happniessi;. 
But  although  I  do  noi  e;v|)ect,  rny  child,  tha*  it  ever  you  lr.  e 
amonr  'hem,  mv    lemons   will  enable  von    to  behave    hnttf , 


lii.sn  Liny  of  ilieni,  \  et  i  hope  ihev  \vii)  qualify  you  tur  he- 
harv  mir  better  than  iluyin^'  of  them/' 

is  another    eopius  sbiuce.  of    mforrrrUion    \viilnn 

:',iilv  pre- 

i  ::   :L     and 

•'  .    the    trunks 

loUier,    which    the  reader  will    remember 

her  babes'  to  h-ive    mentioned   in   Li:'  addiess  to    (-rill.icrl  on 

[y    d::v  of  hi;-    wife's    death,      ^he    \v;is    soon 

.•lor  to  rcnil  ;,iui  understand   the  J'Vench 

'..!;c  j'jio-iish,  ;t!iu    lo  comprehend 

'.viialc". cr  \vasdifiieult  or  ohscurt?  in  citiifr.  'j'iuiu  a  iinsd  oi 
i,';rca!  cnjoym  nt,  as  \vcll  as  of  iiiiirrovnucnt,  lo  which  she 
I':';:1!!,  a!  .  •,  was  i:i  ;  i  •  ^ion,  and 

al          i  i-  c'.n  ;alu(-d  Jiis  t!>c;    more,  as 

tlu;  s;  ,    cs'.oeinc'd  us    her  sec- 

oihl  I'at.hcr,  \v,  i  Li\vay  on    the  business    of   the 

i  ;  \vitii  whom  he  was  CCUIIK  i  'e'l:  i'or  the  fame  of  his 
wis.lom  and  lore^islit  had  spread  wideiv  a.i;mnosl  them,  and 
thev  iievi  r  '.vi-ii!:'.i  to  undertake  any  important  enterprise 
without  consulting  him,  and  obtaining  h!.-.  advice  and  direc- 
Moii  \\D\\-  i  i  conduct  it.  On  such  occasion.-:,  he  was  often 
ni/li  i!)sei:l  for  many  months  together,  during  which 

-he  generally  (VI i.  as  in  •  !'"!}',  us    if  he 

had  been  some  near  and  d<;ur  rel  • 

\ex I  i  j  To: in.:'  d  the  members  of  her  own  Camilv, 

M. uia's  greatest  i'avorite,  and  most  agreeable  ussoci:ile,  was 
ijta-rii  Aliinnipita.  Tlsis  Indian  lady  had  always  manii'esied 
tor  !ier  a  ^reai  affection,  to  which  the  melancholy  circnm- 
stances  o!  her  birth,  perliaps,  al  first  t;ave  ri^:e  ;  but  which 
her  own  endearing  sweetness,  lov&liness,  and  good  iriiure, 
:dier\vard.s  strengtiiennd  and  conlirmed  into  a  sinceie  and 
permanenl  attaehinent.  in  conse(;nence  oi'  this  intimacy 
•.vii,.  ipa,  Mana  obtai'.si  d  a  tolerabh?  kiio\vleilge  ol 

lie    i  it:    by  UK;    uueen,  and    a    considerable  ac 

;u;..ii;iaiic(-    v.  ith    i.  -ers,    cusloius,    and    traditions    ol 

'arious  inciiaii  irilu  s. 

Tlius,  iiolwitlistandiiig    tins   t»cainitui    \onii;;    woman  wa;-. 
'••<it-i)    l>v  str;jii;)cis,    in    (In-    l.i. -art    of  -i.    vsi    -nid    h-ii'iriroii1, 


O  4  THE     WILDERXE.-.V 

"  Wilderness,"  and  in  ihe  midst  of  savage  tribes,  vet  Pn/n- 
dmef  !>;ir]  not  only  protected  her  childhood  from  ieijirv.Ht; 
had,  almost  miraculously,  afforded  her  such  means  o!  ctdti- 
va'.ii'g  hsr  mind  as.  wi;h  the  aid  of  her  own  excellent  under 
standing,  in  a  irreat  measure,  supplied  the  \vant  of  a  more 
regular  and  finished  education.  When,  therefore,  she  h.ul 
arrived  at  the  age  of  womanhood,  whether  we  consider  the 
endowments  of  her  mind,  or  the  charms  o!'  her  person,  >lu 
was  eminently  qualified  to  adorn  and  dclio-ln  ihe  mosi  p&- 
'.i'  ijrc!  ;-ociet>  \',\  civilized  lil'e. 


< 'HA  TIT:  it  IV. 

!''il;r.:i  :iri  pan  iitlv.ss,  m>   JaughtPi',  hear  me 

(';hil  iless  (  live,  nru)  m-vor  r  m  !.a\c  olVs'iMViii  , 
iiiit  in   111V  hi"!ir;   fiir  the;1  :i   |):irf"it's  lovr? 
1  Jon'.'  h;u  o  chi  ,  i   mi  lliei   i  :;en, 

Oh  '    do  t1  •  •:  take  me,  nud  liiou  never  shnlt, 
Whi!'-  lioats  tiiis  'icavl  tluit  lovos  ihy  ^(.-ntlc-iif-ss, 
Ivr.ovs    ivliat  it  is  ti  illi<  r'a  lois. 

SAVE;.  -\EOUf:, 

'1'Hi7;'  until  about  her  .sixteenth  year,  did  the  life  of  Mm;. 
Frazier  pass  aionj;  i)i  an  unruffled,  undisturbed  .stream  o; 
contentment  and  satisfaction.  Xo  misfortune  had  occurred 
either  to  herself  or  her  friends  of  such  importance  ;ts  to  oc 
casion  any  lastinjr  impression  of  grief  upon  her  mind.  It  !•• 
true,  that  the  pieva'ent  quietude  of  the  m<>s'  secluded  and 
tranquil  life  \v'dl  l>e  soinc'inies  interrupted  by  small  domestic 
cares,  crosses,  inconveniences,  and  ungratified  wishes  ;  and 
she  vvas,  no  doubt,  like  every  one  else  in  the  world,  occa 
sionally  annoyed  with  such  unaccommodating  occurrences. 
But  compared  with  the  general  serenity  of  her  life,  these 
were  only  like  the  touch  of  a  fly  upon  the  cheek,  soon  ob 
literated  and  soon  forgotten, 


in    was  about  the  age  before  mentioned,  when   the.   hist 
•>sy  impression  (if  a  durable  nature,  was  made  upon  her 
mind.      Of  tlif  historv  of  her  birth   she   had   hitherto  boon 
'•  >.n   i<?;imranc»,  and  never  entertained  the  least  suspicion 
i.v.tt  'hat  iiilhert   ;uul   his  wile,  (who    had  always  treated  her 
\vitn    the    luost    afiectionate   indulgence,)    were,   her  parents. 
Aliiquippa's  attachment  to  her  was.  the,  cause  of  her  now  be 
coming  acquainted   with    the  truth.      This  Indian    princess, 
who  v.  as    now  advancing'   in   years,  \\  as   eiiiidless,  and    had, 
fore,  for  some  time  past,  unknown  U.  Maria,  cherished 
:>.  siron;/  desire,  to  adept  iier  lor  u  claniniier.      >She    iiad   once 
ur   twice   expressed  her  wish  to  OJiibeil.  hut  could  not   pro- 
furp  Ins   e</n^en!._    h-lie   thought,  ho\vever,  that  her  favorite 
liiciently  old  t^  ;•(•;  for  li-'tx'If.      She,  iherefore, 
the\   conversed  to^eth'T   in    iier  \vi,':wam,  une\- 
v  addresi-.ed  hei  as  foil; 

'  dung  ;  :',  l;e-ir  me  !  and  ;hink  seriously  upon  what 
i  '•''•••  i!oiii<:  !•,'  say.  .\uture  ha^  not  made  me  thy  inoihor, 
•••lion  for  you  has  h>nu '  a^'o  told  ivin  that  it  would  have 
been  weli  had  she  done  so,  ior  had  you  been  fonr.ed  oi'  inv 
own  body,  1  could  not  have;  loved  you  more  sfron<;Iv  tlnn  I 
do.  or  lelt  more  interested  in  your  welfare. 

••  !)an<>  iuei- ;  our  customs  enable;  me,  in  tins  ease,  to  cor 
rect  nature.  You  are  already  the  child  of  my  heart,  I  wish 
K>  ni, ike  vo'i  liie  child  of  my  adoption.  If  you  con^enl,  1 

•  hail  call  tlu-  heads  oi  MIV  liibe  lo;i('!hei%  that  tliev  may  con- 
l!'':;!  :ny  wish." 

The.  unexpected  proposal  both  astonished  and  confused 
.Maria  so  inucii.  that  for  >ome  moments  she  could  not  reply, 
Mii!|ii:[)p:-i  llierei'ore  continneil  : 

••  .ilv  cliiid,  listen  a<jam  !  i  see  your  peiplexity.  It  nia\' 
be,  you  d<i  not  approve  of  my  proposal.  Perhaps  you  do 
nn!  inve  m<:  ,*<_,  niueli  as  I  thou^lif.  e.r,  perhaps  you  may  be 

•  nvillmo    to  Jive  in  this  u  itjwuiri,  a!;er  our   manner.      Hero 
*e  ii    vi     no!    so    i:i:uiy  utensiis    tor    cookiniJ,  and    preparint- 

;  lnr  the  !ah!c.  :-.s  \vhere  you  have  been  accustomed 
•o  inc.  ['',,(',  il  we  liavi;  not,  look  to  ii,  mv  d.iu^hter  '  ha\e 
•if  n"!  !ii. ire  (•;).;(•  .'  —  liii'i'i1  we  not  [ess  annoyance  to  endure 
':oiij  hre-side  l.iboi  '  \nd  \,'|  \ve  ure  nourished,  and  have 
!'•  :i  Hid  blood  u.ioii  niil  hones,  ;i^  well  :is  the  \\dil!'1  people. 


ii4  THE     Wlf.DnRXESS, 

Look   at  ;,ii'1  !      i    have   seen   forty-two   si 

:<••••}  :<rn  !  impaired  in  strength  ?  Are  rr.y  bones  drier,  or 
is  myfhsh  morn  shrivelled  lhan  if  I  had  been  fed  at  a  white 
Minn's  table  '.' 

"  Mv  eiii'd,  listen  to  me  !  If  you  become  iny  daughter, 
yon  will  hernine  accustomed  find  reconciled  to  our  mode  ol 
living.  ^  en  will  be  honored  by  our  tribe.  King?  and  8,1- 
'.hems  \vill  desire  you  in  marriage.  You  will,  if  yon  choose, 
have  ihe  pinnae  to  resist  them,  and  yet  keep  them  in  sub 
jection,  as  1  did.  Or,  as  Shannalow,  the  eagle  of  his  tribe, 
/ruined  me  in  marriage,  so  may  some  great  warrior  gain  you, 
and  make  yon  happy  in  his  love,  and  joyful  in  hi.-  renown. 
You  have  heaul  me,  rnv  child!  "Will  von  become  my 
daughter  ?" 

Maria  v\as  still  much  perplexed  for  a  reply.  She  was 
resolved  to  refuse,  hut  she  fean  d  to  f.iTend.  She  found  now, 
however,  that  she  mist  sav  something;  and  she  endeavored 
to  oxpre.-s  her  n  I'M,- a'  in  icr'vs  as  iiule  (offensive  as  .-ho 
could. 

".Mother,"  said  she — for  P.O  she  had  been  ahvav?  arms- 
tomed  to  -iddress  Alliquippa — '•  1  have  heard  your  proposal 
which  is  the  re-nlt  of  kiii'birss  for  me.  It  exeitrs  frratilinic 
in  ruy  heart,  and  nhhouirh  1  cannot  become  your  da:1 
for  I  have  parents,  ii>  whom  1  o\\e  a  (  iiild's  atlection  ai;i. 
tlntV' — vet  1  love  vnu  as  much  as  if  1  conid.  Think  not, 
therefore,  itiat  rny  refusal  sprinps  from  my  not.  loving  yon, 
for  how  can  I  but  lose  one  \\liu  has  been  so  kind  to  me?" 

"  My  child,  hear  me!"  returned  Alluiuippa — "I  l>elir-\r- 
yoii  love  me.  But  hearken  to  a  truth.  It  i:-  right  -son  should 
hear  it.  Wha!  paivnt  Viave  you  in  the  world  nearer  to  you 
than  I  run?  None.  Or  is  there  one  in  it  that  lores  you 
better  ?  None.  Gilbert  Frazier  is  not  your  i'aiher.  as  you 
have  supposed — nor  is  his  wife  your  mother — she  did  nor 
bear  you  more  than  I  did.  Alas  !  she  who  bore  you.  died 
in  doing  so.  What,  mv  child  !  be  not  surprised.  Oh,  do 
not  tremble  !  j  wislud  not  to  frighten  you.  Oh  !  Spirit  ot 
Maneto!  save  niy  child  !?' 

Here  Alliquippa  caught  Maria,  tor  she  appeared  to  be 
falling  from  her  seat.  Her  countenance  had  turned  deadly 
pale,  her  lips  quivered,  nnd  sensation  for  a  moment  tnrsook 


THE     WILDEKXESS,  3ft 

her.  !She  recovered  gradually,  bin  it  was  several  minute:-* 
before  she  could  sufficiently  collect  her  senses  to  speak  dis- 
liucily  concerning  the  strange  and  distressing  intelligence 
she  had  just  received. 

>l.\h!'?  said  she,  without  recollecting  Alliquippa's  pre.-- 
encC' — "what  has  she  told  me?  Some  strange  thing.  Alas! 
it  was  this — that  I  have  not  a  mother — and  she  died  in  giv 
ing  me  hirlh  !  Merciful  Providence  !  and  am  I  so  bereaved  '.'' 
Here  she  melted  into  tears,  and  her  agitation  somewhat  sub 
sided,  when  perceiving  Alliquippa  inucn  affected,  she  ad- 
dussed  her  calmly. 

"My  mother!  be  not  so  disturbed  on  my  account.  1 
have,  indeed,  heard  what  distresses  me.  1  will  not  ask  you 
to  tell  me  the  whole  story.  1  will  ask  it  of  my  father. 
But,  1  think  you  said  I  had  no  father.  Ah!  say,  was  T 
dreaming-  or.  am  1  really  a  bereaved  orphan?*' 

••  M  v  child  !"  replied  the  queen,  "I  am  rejoiced  to  hear 
you  a'/ain.  I  feared  you  \veie  gone  for  ever,  and  1  blamed 
my. -elf  for  what  I  told  you.  But,  listen,  child  !  Alliquippa 
never  told  lies — what  1  said  was  truth.  The  Great  Father 
is  }  our  only  parent. — but.  he  is  a  good  one  ;  and  lie  has  given 
von  friend*  who  love  you,  and  you  l:ave  never  wanted  t'ov 
anything.  Thru,  child,  listen  to  me  !  it  is  not  rio'ht  for  you 
to  grieve  so  much.  It  is  as  if  you  dislrusfd  the  good  will 
of  voiir  great  lather  towards  you.  But  let  me  not  find  f.mlt 
with  what  1  have  done  myself.  I  grieved  when  Shannalow 
was  killed,  although  it  was  in  bailie  against,  our  enemies, 
and  he  has  been  much  praised.  But  I  was  to  blame.  And 
I  have  since  thanked  the  Great  Spirit,  that  my  hu-hand  died 
a  hem  ! 

"  Hearken  further  !  I  wished  you  for  my  daughter,  be- 
e;>use  I  have  no  child,  ami  you  have  no  paient,  ami  because 
I  love  you,  and  believe  ihat,  you  love  me.  But  my  brother. 
Gilbert  Fiazier,  and  niv  sister,  his  wife,  love  you  also,  and 
have  i'l-M-u  (r,,(K|  to  you.  They  aie  of  \our  own  kind,  and 
•,  '  u  may  ii"'  wi-li  to  leave  ibem  lor  a  mother  ol  a  red  coloi. 
Child  '  I  spe;di  plainly  !  Follow  \our  o\\  u  inclinations 
it  sou  become  mv  daughter,  1  shall  he  <flad.  ll  not,  "you 
can  still  be  my  friend,  and  I  shall  hi1  satisfied. *' 

For  ihe,->e  »eneroii.s  sentmients    .Maria   (ell,  and   expressed 


FHK      .'•]  hj   ;••!••-.. 
'•       II   '••      •  llde;     ;l!ii!     t:dslil;j     I'-iiV'.:    <'i     Hie    qtlftlill,   she     :'r 

••'    home,  \vilii  •         rhed    nut!   opnre.-<-ed 

• 

iort  of 

. 

'    • 
Oh,  G 

•  should  i 

1   ;"-   i 

Th°i 

on    ;ic!-tM!p.! 

..MI;  •,•,',  Other  p.-ifii:1;!!   s-llp- 

-•':;•    felt  a:  slid  !ri:!  sonielhin'j'  lik;;   a   ffrcat  M 

.help 
;.  nil  i 

ihrovi  i  .  ••  ••  .  .  ;  •  .  .:,j  vm<-' 

never!.-)  tiistnist  his  Providence,  she  ranched  home  in  a  far 
riinrp  ro-nnosfd  suite  ol'  mind  than  \vhen  she  left  Alliquippa'.- 

Her  i'.gitfition.  however,  was  too  ar.parent  unite  he  nt  ..jiee 
observed  !)\-  she  affectionate  !\ei:r.  \\ 'l,o  t'e.lt  tor  her  weli-bein^ 
•til  the  soiieitude  ol  a  re; 

"  \\  h;;i  ;>\\x  \,  i:-!  she — ••  i  diioi  soinethinp'^ 

svraiiL1,  niv  hnirn — i'.n;  von  no  we;-!  :'" 

"  'Xo  —  nsy  kind  mother  !""  siie  replied,  "  L  ain-not.  ^•••il,  \>\\l 
:t  ;s  rn\'  heiirt  alone  that  is  sick.  Alas  !  that  lien!  i.-ei-.;  iiu.it  n 
(.i'.ves  vou  a  debt  ot  gratitmlp.  \\hich  it  \vill  never  !v'  al'ili-1  i-- 


THE    WILDERNESS 

'  \Vhy,  mv  ehiii!,''  said  Xe!h-,  surprised  at  such  an  ob:-er- 

in — "\Yiiv,  what's  come  owre  ye  ?     Tint's  stianjre  talk, 

indeed!      I  doobt  some  o'  tliis  books    ye're   aye  readin    hae 

pu!  ye    cra/v.      I   ;:l'tcii    taidd  ye  it    was  vran<f  to  s'udv    sae 

mucki'1.      Tak'  mair  diversion,  an'  sport  yonrsel,'  like  Xaa- 

M  vexes    \'i;ur  puir  mother  to  sc  '  •>  on 

'•.My  niolher,  do  y:n;  sa\'  '. "  ci'.ed  Maria,  almost  uricon- 
scioii.-ly — "Aii!  would  to  heaven  lhal  you  were  my  mother 
— then,  you  would  not  see  me  now  iiuhappv.'' 

"\Voidd  L  wi;re  your  mother  I"  i-'Deaied  the  alarmed 
NclU-.  --Die  ony  hody  ever  hear  l!ie  like  o'  that?  \Vhy 
ye  ken,  I  hae  aye  lieen  your  mother — ay,  an'  1  aye  will  he 
your  molher.  lor  ye  hae  aye  In  en  a  Lr"de  h.iim  to  me. 
DiMiia  cry  noo,  my  bonnv  jewel  —  dimia  cry  sae — some  yen 
—  toid  IV  their  toimues  !  mauu  liae  taidd  ye  some  ill  story 
to  vex  you.  But  dinna  mind  ihuin,  my  iiaiin — -ye  hae  aye 
been  my  aim  an'  aye  will  be  my  ain  !'' 

So  ,-ayin::',  she  kissed  Aiaria,  who  was  weepiuo'  bitterly, 
on  the  i-heek,  and  wiped  the  tears  from  it  with  a  handker 
chief,  while  al  the  tin;  moisture  \vas  breaking 
Iroin  hei  own  c^yes. 

"Tell  me."'  she  said,  "my  bi-iinv  lamb!  what  vexes  ye 
'-a1-'  Im'  1  canua  bear  to  POC  \'e  oryin' this  way.'" 

Maria  irrasped  h.er  hand  :  she  !i,(;k"d  in  her  eoutitei'.anre 
md  saw  that  her  heart  was  I'idl,  and  >\\<'  could  not  rcsulve  to 
inerease  its  sorrow  l>v  disflaiminir  lhat  tender  relationship 
-In-  li-id  hitherto  conceived  herself  to  ;"  .r  to  tin-  affectionate 
fuardian  and  cheri~her  of  her  rhildlmocl. 

••Ves!  I  fcrl  it,"  siie  exclaimed,  --von  are  mv  moiliei  — 
ny  besi  of  moihers.  nnd  shall  still,  ^•<:i!  be  so — thouLrii  1  ha\-e 
'ecu  told  you  wero  not." 

"An  wha  v.'as  c;:c  hard-hearted  :i^  to  I'll  YOU  sae,  my 
',' — -shame  hi'  theii  i!l  tnii'm-  ••  :  cerdd  thev  no  ha(>  been 
T  eni!'Io\  ed  than  ID  blah  not  wh:>t  can  noo  do  naebody 
..  ;,,  h(.;,r  '" 

"Ah  '  iv  moil  r>r— 1  >h  !  I  will  still 

•ali  \'ou  so.  iho  :  :  no  rin  lit." 

".Nai1  richt  !  Maria  !  m\"  am  !  s-ie  l.mir  m\-  am  wean  !  \Vlia 
lare  tak'  the  richt,  irae  ye  to  ca'  me  molher'  Sair,  s-<ir,  to 
'\<;  \\-\\\  be  the  (lav  when  ye  rea<e  t  i  rli 


now,  mother  !    I  r.m   better."      And    she    endeavored    10    ap- 


• 

A'l'   t!  "   V;  .   1 

bred  ye,  aa'  wa  mused  ye  in    my  lap,  nn1 

>"'•••  sae.      O!i  :  iiinr.ii  thin]  n1  it." 

"  Vft: .  :-l!,     •  •      ••  •      rii\ 

' 

..•-.-.    ! 

ih in  th  .                                  i   so  uiiu-'n 

[.•are  and  sol  i'u     lliii-U' 

— ;>h  :  I  i  tee] — ;.i  i 

io\  t;  yo  ' 

i;letii?f3    and   coml'i-i-i 
:  >n  restored  i!ic..'n   in  irnu 

.M:iri;i  now    i  inotlier  of  (.^1.10011   Aliiquij 

propi  .:  hter,  and  iho  accouiii  *'>}>>.  hud 

:  i-. 

llv,  in  return,  acquaintfld  lu;i'  with  ctii  ;iic  (;ire.uins  ; 
•  •oniici -,.  .1  with  her  i.-inh,  o(' which   tin-  leader  i-   aire.uh    in 
lV»rn!:\i.      '  '  her    relation  hy    ohserviinr    vsiiir  hiilir-i 

an'  i  v/Diild  iip;'     lauld  you  tnir    tilings    Ian;  it,    iin 

ii.kiu'  P.  ili^iui-i)  vou    \vi  LIU'    e.etlier, 

it  ma1.  an'  mother, 

v:h;t  like  von  a?  w;  :  !    th.'iu  til  il    an;  oor  ain  (lesh 

rin'  'ninid,  \ve  -ive  put  it  aii'  i'ruc.  day  to  day.  \Ve  I  eared  n 
wad  Iff!  an  ni'.r-o  trial,  an'  \e  micht  !i;ie  thouelit  we.  (ill  n 
irae  unkindiie^>.  But  you  cann.i  tliinL  sae  noo.  '['lie  tiiaf-- 
owre;  I'm  uhd  o'l,  '.nT  ]  hup,-;  in  Gotl.  liu"1  threat  Paren!  (V 
i.,1;  •/  i.h-jt  h.-'il  keep  u.^  ;i'  i.'appv  Ian;;  tiffhediPi ." 


!    II  [,       Vi    i  I.  Pi  .  :;    -.  . 

mute,    rcrleriion,    ,    •  m    res'lon 

ii    ti>    SUCi'  li      it    W  'I..    I'di,    !'l  U  i  : 

f  I  (',(;,;     ,•!    !-   ;:  •  ;      |o     plV-.  '     (  i  I     <>r      !>|S      - 

ihitikni'r   her  unhappy.      ''  va-  reluctance    to 

tii;,:   uneasiness  in   this  good   couple,   which   she   knu\v  any 
appal i  !!'.  ailliction  of  hers  wo  icc,d  he 

In  rn.iki;  cxci  lioii.s    to  roil'-;1;!!    iVoia    their  vicv/    many  ;i  ion-.; 
flour's  mental  auxiciy,    '.viiich,  hj    •  il  her    (.•<! 

i!.  wouh!.  inMi)   i'.is  liiiie    forward,  Irecjin    iliy  obtrudf 
her.      She  could  not,  at   anv    lime,   toiai'ty    divnst    iif. 
timid  of  the    recollection  :  was    (le.ji; 

• 

npi'ti  tin:  \voihi,  without  po  any  nauir;  :  to  i!>- 

protfH'tion   aiid   su'.tpori   of  an)    lellov.'-heini;.      "\i.\-:       sfi^ 
• 

illiiiitx    wi'h  inin 
lio\\-   nonil'ortaljle  1.    ^iio:i!d  ire!.       f>ui.  -;ias  !   the,;"1 

!'•'.;!  thi.-i  srnae   oi'  hu  loruue:  foi    on 

iiionieiii,  !n  •  nratnudc  to  (rod,  p>r  I'M; 
had    hitherto  eii|oyed,  nor   her   alleetion    and   (in!1 
tho.-;n    k  lit'!    peop!11.    \v  !io    ha 


CO    Ol    ',;   i' 

oft 

'•ra'ily  restored    before  In-    reiii;  11. 

••overed  that    .';onvMi'.inir   had    taken    pi 
iiriee  he  la.si   saw   1  fill  nid  viv.i 

jitiou  v.diich    she  iiad    hiihen.')    ds.-'pl: 
win    : ;  .      kin  '.•/    \  .  -    her   natural  bent      ,  d.      ! ' •    ni'Mi 

. 
•nil;. 

f- aid  in  ,    ••  von  do     wi'fuin    ''•   ::i  IPVC    tot 

•  laull    "1 
M\n 

in  ,  arid  evej         .        .  nel 

'OL  bin  !:.•  re'piMilatu  i  ,  .  lei  )";••  ntanec    .  •  him  L(J  -0th 

1  jOa    ari'i    ina'i.     in<l    s  lorpfoio,     ri'concilr     him    (r. 

i'.rn   .  i!- 


40  iHL    \VILDERXESE. 

"My  Daughter — you  say  you  have  no  kindred;  bin  you 
only  mean  such  kindred  as  hare  been  called  so  by  the  CIK-- 
toins  of  the  world.  Th^sc  il  may  sometimes  be  a  comCorl 
to  have,  but  it  it  not  always  a  Miisforume  to  want:  for  the 
faults  of  a  mai'.'s.  kindred  olten  reflect  upon  him  tlu-ir  evil 
consequences,  when  he  himself  is  blameless.  But,  daugh 
ter,  you  have  kindred.  The  Father  o!'  the  world  has  given 
us  all  a  common  origin  :  we  have  all  sprung'  from  hinr-eli. 
Every  one  you  see  is,  therefore,  your  relative,  whether 
white  man  or  Indian.  £ueh  is  the  unchangeable  law  of  na 
ture! — and  so  long  as  y;;u  act  justly  towards  these  vour 
relaves,  they  are,  bound,  bv  that  unchangeable  law  to  sup 
port  and  protect  you. 

"But.  niv   child.  I  sneak  thus,  not  to  chide,  but  io    advis< 
von,  not  blame,  but  to    comfort  \  ou  ;  for  although  it  is   Inn" 
hi!  for    yon  to    grieve,    yet,  I'.ir  such  a    cause  ;is  yours,  it    :.- 
natural,  and,    therefore,    cannot  be    offensive    to  vour  (-ere;;1 
Father.      -Nay,    m\    daughter,    hear  me!      J    am  :.;hd  ' 
that   von  ];ossess   those  line  feulings  ot  the    hear!,  that  swei  ' 
and  amiable  sensibility,  which  is  the  true  gourr     ot  affection 
and  tc!i:ici;ue-s,  and  which,  when  it  can  be  controlled  b\ 
g,'ior.    ami  rea-on,    is  <i  nreat  ornament  to  vour  sex.      But,  hV 
vour  (j\vn  sake,    I   wisii    you    to  restrain  its   impulses  witlii;: 
due  bound.-.      Its  possession  is  often  a  great  augmentation  io 
happiness,  'out,  unless  under  proper  control,  it  is  almost  con 
slantly  a  great  source    of    misery,   and    the    origin  of  mis 
fortune. 

"And  now,  daughter,  I  must  say.  that  yon  have  reason, 
considering  all  things,  to  be  satisfied  with  your  lot.  God 
ha^  r-nveii  you  kind  and  steady  protectors  in  my  brother 
Frazier  and  his  wife  ;  and.  have  J  not  been  to  you  the  hither 
of  instruction,  and  can  you  think  me  les--  than  a  father  M 
aTecuon.  or  that  I  shall  ever  see  you  in  misfortune,  and  no?, 
step  forth  to  relieve  you  .' 

"Daughter,  be  of  jntod  cheer — -your  blesMtigs  are  mau\  - 
You  have  health,  and  understanding,  and  knowledge,  and 
on  earth  many  friends,  and  God  in  heaven  '. 


1  HK     '•   'i  :  i  ' 


CHAPTER   V. 


l,o  '  in  the  d :  theii   *  enturous  •,-,  n  •.  . 

1  daniii-  bind.  ri'::.(i'i!if;s.s  of  oar h  toil  ; 

ith  ;i    ynill  hi  'Ht    s'\  ,:-,  , 

itHi    lard  in  a  di 

:jn  r  which  inLrht  tame 
to  '''llUir'd  iirts  u(  pc.iee, 
!)!(j;ik  waste  the  boon  <>!' jilrnt  v  claim. 
And  cause  Mr  accursed  n'ii;ii  of  savant;  linitb  to  ci 


Vb  nil  t\vo  vear- alter  Maria  became  acquainted  with  hei 
:  lair  ol  urj)!ia!i:(i.n',  ;MI  (ivcnt  took  phuiL1,  which,  as  it  h;ul  the 
most  unjiortant  influcncu  upon  her  destiny,  it,  is  our  businrs:- 
to  pf-latL'. 

Shortly  after  the  treaty  of  Aix-lu-Chapellu,  which  let't  the 
lioundaries  botwi'ii  the  British  and  French  de-minions  in 
America  altogether  undefined,  '.he  British  o'ovenunent, 
which  claimed  an  unlimited  extent  of  country  westward,  on 
a  parallel  with  their  eastern  settlements,  granted  a  lar^c  pur- 
iion  n!  l.uid.  situated  alioii!  the  h''ad  oi  the  Ohio  river,  to  a 
number  ol  noblemen  and  opulent  merchants,  who  associated 
ton-ether  under  the  titlr  ol'  "Tin.-  Ohio  Company."  This 
eoinp.inv,  which  was  Ibrmcd  some  time  in  the  year  17;")0, 
Contemplated  t^rritoii-d  M  w/11  a^  commercial  advantauss, 
:md  employed  -e vend  adventurous  individuals  to  explore  i  he 
.  ry,  with  a  view  to  its  settlement.  li  was  soon  under- 
stoml,  however,  tha'  (he  French,  who  also  madu  preleiisions 
lo  tin.-,  country,  would  re>i^t  any  British  settlement  that 
should  he  ui.ide  there.  But  the  company  determined  to  per- 
m  their  designs;  and,  i'or  the  j)iirposc  of  giving  efFuc.l 
lo  then' operations,  m  the  year  1  7f>',J,  it  was  resolved  to  send 
a  p.irty  o!  men  to  lake  lormal  possession,  and  erect  a  tort  on 
t||.'  southeast  side  o!  the  Ohio,  near  ( 'hartier's  creek,  ah, tut 
three  niile>  hel.iw  \vlu-re  I'ltlshur^h  now  stands. 

I'lioniHs  VdderU",  ']  i|.  i  wealths'  merchant  ol  I'hdadel- 
ph.a,  ;md  ;\  l-.idin^  m^m'ie;  and  a  din  <  t-T  o|  th.e  i  ompany, 


promote!  H    of  tin-'  enitii  |>i  isi        !  "• 
•i  }'.  iti\ 

i'neiu.    •  •  ;   ••     •••  . .- 

,  \\  ho  was  ji  nran  oi 

lints,  he    ;;i:-i>  emigrated 

•    SS    I);   UK 

• 
.   r 


. 
ui    ii>.. 

. 

! 

Hri'i:-  . 

After  ••:.   ;  •  •  •  . 

abm 

• 

inqu  !  •  •  •  v.  c  •' 

e  rn  \'\  '•   ' 

thf.  tb 

• 

. 
i 

•    with    llie    l;iu;:-iM!L-. 

Differ  horncj  iittlc  delib  ••;!  account  of  the  p'-riiy  oi'  'h>:- 

naUi-rifiUni'.r,  yji-id^d  to  dis  re-iue?!  ;  ami  n^   s  i'('ii'  P 

tioii.   i;ilent?,  and  c,oi  i\vn,  10  diffi 

culty  ni  ircltiro  lii  n  ;>l  ;  .v.'diii.oii. 

A.t  the  time  tliot  ('  ierly    undertook  the  manage 

rr.ifcni  oi' this  enterpi-ise,  \viiirh  '.vas  one.  in  iho^e  days,  some 
what  novel  in  its  na'iire,  ho  \vas  in  ins  twenty  second  yeai. 
and  a;  -accomplished,  active, ••handsome  2nd  p-aiiarn  a  voiuis 
man  as  any  lady  could  wish  to  behold.  His  s'aiury  \vanti;-.; 
rut  ope  ipch  o'  s:x  iee*  His  fe^tnrep  ">vf  r<=  veil  f'".riT;."-~. 


r'\pre*si\ '••  :    »'  nth    in-n-voltMte--,   nml 

•••.  nli  0-ood  irtturr.      I  i :  •••:•!., rk.  intelligent  and 

i-tratinir.      lin  Iviir  •!•;  :md  somewhat  evirled — wl 

:    was   all  K/oth        I  •  •  sh 
•    and     red. 
istlv      »ro- 
h-'i 

\-.  ;! ':  c.on 
•-•-•. 

• 

;!   quite1  ('iiii-rciM 
i     ill-"1,'  •    : 
IOVOUS     .TJH10',  - 

' 

, 
" 

•     ;•    ;    '   •     Ill  I       ;i  il'l 
•      -          •    i    i)(!    IP.'U.    " 

'•"''•  •         \\  us  ih-':i  nothing 

. 

Plld      i;-!cl:)!T!\- 

' 

:  . 

I  to    cvicoiin 

rliii   of  Ano'llSt.         It  CO;; 

!  <>'  i  won                     .      '            .     tl    about  a  coiiplfi  doxpn 
'i  u-ick   !                     'ii  \viih   :  i 

initionp.    !•:.•••                                :    •-,  lu 

•  -'.       T1!'",'  \v :•;•!!  :iii   ii;:  .-  men. 

'••  r  :  i'i  i  •                               i'.'Mic.  li.i  nislnp.  nr    ii;r:  i:-    nr:- 

O'TV        \'. 

!i:is';!i'-i.  :i  nd  i  .     •  1 1  -\    v.'i '  i    \\-iliiii.:- 

'/  :i:;si  M  lu  i"isc  (i,  iii  ,i  i:i  :h"  pi'i'ii li'iii:! ;!!'.•'>  iii'  :ui\'  iiur\  . 
'Jiiarlc^  liimscll  ;  ;i  |]iiit-p:,\  military  L'ari'.ain,  u'iio  iiad  oanf 
•  ouir!:1  in  t!nj  \r\v  Kniii::;;d  \vars  a^aiasi  the  !ncli;.ui^,  and 
.•nderstonri  '-.'ver:!!  of  thoir  lanp-uagres  ;  an  en^'iM^er  ;  :i  VOUJIP 


44  THE     \\  IT.bKRM  ri.~. 

surgeon  who  was  employed  not  merely  as  such,  hut  as  sec- 
re  la  r\  to  the  expedition  ;  and  two  yountr  men  of  mercantile 
knowledge,  who  had  heen  bred  merchant's  clerks,  were  the 
only  individuals,  not  professionally  workmen  ;  unless  we 
exclude  from  this  class.  Charles's  body  servant,  J'eter 
M'Fall,  who  had  followed  his  dear  master  from  the  sweet 
city  of  Dublin — Deli!  loiio  life  to  it  ! — Over  all  England 
and  Scotland,  and  Cermanv  and  Italv,  and  France,  and 
now  to  America  ;  and  was  ready  besides  to  follow  him  all 
the  world  over,  and  Ireland  into  the  bargain,  if  he  should 
ever  u-o  back  to  it." 

Every  man  of  this  stout-hearted  and  stout-bodied  party 
was  well  armed,  and  well  prepared  to  encounter  either  tin: 
natural  obstacles  of  the  way,  or  the  attacks  of  an  enemy, 
should  they  meet  with  any,  whether  French  or  Indians. 

They  left  Philadelphia  laden  with  the  prayers  and  good 
wishes  of  the  citizens,  and  the  fourth  day  afterwards  crossed 
the  Susquehannah  in  a  flat,  amidst  the  cheers  and  acclama 
tions  of  the  people  then  resident  upon  its  hanks.  As  they 
proceeded,  however,  the  obstacles  to  their  progress  increas 
ed,  and  it  was  the  eighth  day  from  their  startinir  before  the\ 
reached  the  South  Mountain.  They  had  great  difficulty  in 
passing  ibis  mountain.  Their  axes  and  mattocks  were  pm 
m  freijiieut  requisition.  On  the  eleventh  day  of  their  jour 
ney,  however,  they  reached  the  plain  near  where  ('bam 
bersburg  is  now  situated.  They  here  pitched  their  teuis 
and  halted  for  a  couple  of  days,  in  order  to  shout  aame,  and 
give  those  who  were  fatigued  an  opportunity  of  resting. 

They  set  forward  ao-,dn  on  the  tenth  day,  and  arrived  at 
the  eastern  foot  of  the  JNorth,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called, 
the  Cove  Mountain,  that  night.  The  crossing  this  stupen 
dous  mountain  was  one  of  the  most  laborious  ta>ks  they 
encountered  on  the  whole  route.  They  set  their  bodies  to 
it,  however,  with  great  vigor,  and  hewed  their  way  manfully 
through  the  almost  impervious  thickets  that  incumbered  the 
numerous  rocks  and  precipices  over  which  they  had  to'  pass 
into  the  valley  on  the  western  ;-ide,  in  about  four  day?. 
Here,  on  the  site  of  the  present  M'Connelstown,  they  again 
halted  for  two  days,  for  the  sake  of  rest  and  recreation. 

in   this   manner  they  proceeded  over  thr>  \-n-<t   and    moun- 


I.  Hi:     WILDERNESS.  if» 

,    wilderness,    not    unapdv    called    the    BaekbojK-;    of 
•a,  \viih  iiifinji:  ;-uri»;j  footing  for  their  horses, 

up,   nml    some ti in i 

iin- 

• 
' 

. 

ir   i  minify, 

• 
:nl  \vhrn 

• 
•  •  Us. 

y 

Nav,  ;  f   men 

:  .        sposed. 

•  I ' 

•  • 

• 

;   !    ••     1C-  '     '     ' 

' 

' 

.       ' 
• 

•       i  n !  i  ( • i  i  !  i  >  •  •    ! .  ! !  i  ;i  I    a 

; 
•vopi  [•  to   re          ;  >   crcf  k,  and   takf 

•    '  I     j)(  I-S(";- 

! !  c  soon  in  irki'il  out.    lli<j    pi:;r  •    li  led  lor  a  .  • 

,\\c\\  lunik  near  th"  c,-"c!v  on  'in-  ^oiitii  si  ic 
.  ••'  i.  n  1 11  .itr' ,!'!:  ii 'I.  hill    •<!'  •;  •!  i1;;    !•>- 

';!•(!•!>;;  -ll    iVolU    ; 

••in    c  isilv    -u---        •  iii-iiil.       il'T'-    In: 

"'.^ir'iVcd    \\'-::i:!i:i     i';1!  •  •    .1     :";irili     I1  tit  "i 'llrh  :i  •  (>il  t,   ailll 

•>-  •'  -\  t)i< :,-iv  -lidii<T  |c.f  ••    li'inimrary  di.Ti'iic''1,  tor  lie  \\  :IH    in 
•"  -  :1    :h"'    ihc'   I'V'iir  rmder  MI   'iio  !'<>'•(  n!'    I  ,c    Re1!'. !'. 


46  *hr.     WILDERNESS. 

about  twenty  miles  distant,  had  expressed  great  displeasure 
at  tlit1  report  of  his  incursion  to  this  country,  and  it  was 
probable  that  he  would  no;  even  refrain  from  violence  in 
order  to  drive  him  off. 

Charles  iiiouniu  that  it  was  not  likely  the  French  would 
use  force  for  such  a  purpose,  :is  it  was  then  u  time  <>f  peace 
between  France  and  England;  hut,  at  all  events,  he  con 
ceived  it  prudent  to  erect  some  species  of  defence,  for  if  the 
Freih'li  commandant  should  not  venture-  openly  to  attack 
him,  lie  niijjht  secretly  spur  on  some  of  the  Indian  tribes  10 
do  so. 

His  men  were  immediately  set  to  work  ;  some  in  prepa 
ring  timber  for  the  block-house,  ami  some  in  dicing  tiio 
trench.  They  hud  been  two  or  three  days  employed  at  this 
business,  when  Peter  .VI' Fail,  who  nau  been  hewing  timber 
at  some  distance  from  the  rest,  perceiving  a  deer,  threu 
down  his  axe,  and  seizin"  his  <iun,  ;lbr,  10  guard  as  much  as 
po.-ijhle  against  any  hosiile  su;  prise,  ea.'h  man  was  ordered 
to  have  his  chained  musket  convenient  to  liim  whiie  at  uorii,'; 
proceeded  after  it  lor  a  short  distance.  It  had  stoppe'i.  an.! 
in  a  croi!chin<j  posture,  amonu  some  thick  undergrowth  oi 
hazels  and  spicewood,  he  silently  ami  slowly  approached  it, 
when,  all  at  once,  he  heard  the  sound  of  human  voices,  as  if 
talku.g  together.  He  thought  no  more  of  the  deer,  for  he 
was  altogether  attracted  by  the  sounds,  in  which  he  believed 
there  was  something  not  absolutely  unknown  to  him.  He 
drew  near  them  with  as  much  silence  and  circumspection  a>« 
he  could,  and  soon  distinguished  the  words  to  be  French,  a 
language  of  which  he  hau  acquired  r-"me  knowledge  while 
attending  his  master  on  his  European  navels.  He  still  con 
tinued  cautiously  approaching  until  iie  obiained  a  slolen  view 
of  the  speakers.  They  were  white  men,  and  he  had  ;,» 
hesitation  in  believing  them  to  be  French,  although  they  had 
on  uo  uniform  that  could  dUlinauish  them  as  such.  Each 
of  them  wore  a  plain  round  hat,  a  short  gray  colored  hunting 
roundabout,  and  gray  pantaloons.  They  were  standing  lean 
ing  upon  their  guns,  beneath  a  brush-covered  bank  that  over 
looked  a  small  run,  and  from  which  bank,  concealed  by  tin- 
brush,  he  saw  them  only  lour  or  five  yards  below  him. 
After  listening  to  their  discourse  for  about  fifteen  or  uveotv 


TIIK     WILDERNESS.  4? 

minutes. he  became  impatient  to  communicate  it  to  his  mas 
ter,  it  bein<]f  of  such  a  nature  as  to  show  that  there  was  mis- 
o  lif  soon  expect;  >.!  ;  hut  happening  to  withdraw  from 
hi-  skulkincj-place  raihr-r  incautiously,  they  espied  him,  and 
in'iiii  iiretl  at  him.  ()'.:••  of  ir:eir  balls  passed  through 

hir--  hat,  and  another  thronim   the   skirt   of  his  cr>at.  without 
inii'.rina'  him.      He   speedily  returned   their  favor,  and   saw 
m  fall,  but   did   not  wait    to   ascertain  whether  he 
v  d  or  merely  wounded.      lie    hastened   through    the 

with    the   swiftness   of  an  Asaliel,  and  was,  in   a   few 
s,  breath.ler-s  before  his  master. 

•'  Oh  !  holy  Brid^e-t !  master  !"  cried  he  in  a  great  flurry— 
"I  am  wound'-'d  boih  in  the  head  and  ;he  tail!" 

•'Wounded!  how?"  exclaimed  Charle--;.  "  Why.  what 
has  happened.  Peter?" 

:'i.   nothing,   your   honor,"   replied   Peter,  somewhat 
reco   erinir   hi  ion;    ••  bit1   I    shot    a    Frr-icinnan  a* 

nc   t.  •••'.<>:  lion  the " 

••  Th  •:),  Peter,  1  dare  sav  it  is  th'j  rrencbmnii,  and  not 
you,  thai  is  wounded.'7 

•' Oiih !    iifiu'.   master,   sure   didn't    I.   tr-il    v<>u    the   truth? 

1.  at    the    hall   they  shot   throno-h.    m\"  h;'af! — I    ho::a'd   it 

wiii-dmir  like   a    pipe-staple.      You'll  see   it    there   in   both 

of  mv  hat,  your  honor.      CMi  !    ir   llcw  like  the  wind 

thi'oiii:!)  a  barn  door — 

i:  lias  1101  c.raeked  vour  skull  for  von,  I.  hope,  Peter. 
Let  me  see.  Whv  !  you  blunderpaie,  there  is  not  so  much 
as  a  scratch  here — " 

•    O'j;h  '.    your   honor,  let  Pel;-;-  alone  for  thru.      The  devil 
1  yet  made  the  bullet  that  broke  m\-  head,  ah'nouoh   he 
sent   one    throa.ji]    mv  lail    too.      I',\    niv  soul,  it    was   tight 
ffoincr,  to  be  shot  tbrouoh  at  both  (-nd.s.  master  !" 

••And    yet    to   be    injured    in    neither,"  observed  ("harlo?. 
was    iiou    satisfied    that     1'eter    had    ree.'i^ed    no    liurt. 
"  i!..,    lei!    HIV-    ho\\    tJiis    atl'ajr    has    happeiied.       \Vhere    did 
vo'i  see  iii"   L'renciinian,  and  \\  nat  \\-as  he  abmit  '" 

••  ll\-  in \  soul,  Mr,  ,:  wasu'i  one,  but  two  ef  them  1  saw, 
nkulkino",  like  thu  yes  irom  a  Kilmainhani  twist,  behind  a 
ha  .'-stack,  it  was  just,  \  our  honor,  uiider  ihe  bro\v  of  the 
hitT  ditch  vonder  wiier.-  the  litth1  rr/er  rnn-:.  that  I  spied, 


mem,  as    ?uucr   as    a  m   anii.n-    iljt-    bi  -  i     ,      "i'hc> 

'.vere  speaking  French  i,  \vhen  J  •  lark, 

ind  i 

- 

1  •  '  '> 

. 
•.  I  H  •:.;•(!  in 


us  .       :  —  th(  --  hnn<r 

. 
• 

, 
aid.   they  i^oulti   i^iie   u? 

. 

ii        mauei    bcitei 

than  •   .  •  .  [ii>\v  !" 

. 

"•  G(.*h  :  ir,  i;-i;h.  til  love  thev  expi 

tVa-  ihey  ci  ne  \  et." 

"  tlasli1.  t';-',  ';'  !  —  :-cii!i(l    ilir    hao'le,   :ihd    <"•   il   in    the    men 
uri  media! 

Pt1  •'.)•;•  -.iid  ;iy   ho  \v:i.s  disvered.  :;::>l   in   :t   i(J«"  !iiinuLijs    'lie 
v.-holo  p:>rty  ',vns  a^-crniih-d. 

Charles    comiaonipsTod    (;>    iheni    Pr^-v'?  av-couii'    oi%   ^he 
aariijev  ihar  thrpaicnfd   '.horn,  arid  desired  ihem   tu   keep   ;. 

:'00d   !-..K.-k    OUT.   Mild    !!(K    if)   Sf'O:i:'MI^    l!!!'il    lUHhr-i1   ulu..T'-:.        i.c 


I'MK     WTLDEUNKSS.  19 

tin  ii  conferred  prnatelv  with  C,tpi:iiii  Ridgely  on  ihr  best, 
measures  lo  he  adopted. 

li  was  agreed  that  the  men  should  ;it  once  he  employed 
MI  constructing  ;:  hasty  parapet  for  immediate  defence,  of 
;he  materials  they  had  already  [)repared,  so  that  if  attacked 
theN  miirht  have  sonic  shelter  (Voni  the  enemy.  At  the 
time  a  n  r  \\as  sent  to  king  Shingiss,  acquaint 

ing  bun  with  the  state  of  a  Hairs,  and  requesting  his  assist- 
ance  as  an  ally  in  repelling  any  attack. 

Shinjfiss,  with  live  or  :-i\  warriors,  soon  waited  upon 
Charles,  and  addressed  him  in  the  following  manner: 

••  Brother  !  1  will  speak  freely — your  people  and  the 
French  dislike1  each  other,  and  many  of  us  dislike  you  both. 
\  our  two  nations  disagree  about  this  countrv  which  belongs 
io  neither  of  you.  It  is  a  hundred  generations  since  the 
(in  a!  Spirit  who  made  it,  first  {rave  it  to  our  fathers,  and  to 
heir  sons  for  ImntitiLr  irround.  They  and  we  have  pos- 
;essed  it  ever  since.  Is  it  not  strange  that,  yon  white  na- 
tioiis  should  quarrel  more  fiercely  about  our  property  than 
\ve  ourselves  .' 

••  Brother  !  I  will  speak  truth,  and  you  will  hear.  We 
ha\e  no  objection  to  your  lodjfinir.  ainon<>'  us,  and  tradinp 
with  us.  so  limn  us  \  mi  trade  fairly,  and  behave  peaceablv, 
Mid  make  no  aiiempt  lo  engross  our  land. 

••  Brother,  be  attentive  !  1  do  not  say  that  you  have  yet 
•h<ate<l  us.  nor  thai  \  on  intend  it.  Hut  we  have  heard  ot 
•oiiii'  traders  from  the  nsinii"  sun  who  did  so.  This  has 
illronted  our  people.  Thev  see-  that  tlu1  children  of  vour 
iiation  can  be  dishonest,  and  they  distrust,  von. 

'•  Brother,  hear  the  truth  !  J  nave  \  on  permission  to 
•  iiild  here,  because  I  know  that  you  cannot,  as  we  do,  live 
n  wigwams,  and  1  wauled  vou  to  be  comfortable,  that  \  on 
in i^li l  have  no  CHUM'  of  complaint,  and  that  \  on  iniu'ht  trade 

||>    ill    '    |ii|l 

•  Brother!  1  t.  II  sou  these  thinirs  thai  vou  mav  know 
iiow  tu  plea.-e  the  Indians.  If  \  on  attend  to  them,  thev 
\ill.  whin  \  on  are  distressed,  lend  yon  assistance.  If  you 
Icspise  'diem.  the\  \\il!  •  \\  still  \\heu  yiii  nt^.'d  them,  or  it 
•nay  be  they  \\-ill  lit'i  the  hatchet  against  you. 

•    Brother'      l.i-i  nie  no\v  sav,  that  vou  lia\c  not  \  et  dis 


:,0  i  HI       VVI1  bFRNFSs 

pleased  me,  h\H  thr  iYeru'h  have:   and  it'  \i\\    \varnors  were 

iii,  for   voit    h;i\  r   in  v    permis 
sion    lo   live   here,  ami   the   French   have  no   rip'h:  lo 
you.      [  wil  innoahs-.      Their  \va 

come  when  the^    hi     •  ,  y,  and  \vi;h  th.op;;  of  my 

rribr-  that  are  \vi  n  \vil 

whole  (lav  hfioiv  \\   •  c.n:  , 
'•  Brother  !      L!>O\ 

..  as    .•our   o  wu 
btivnyoi   iliat   ..id  it;   and    thai    the    lmiinn.>    should    he    d- 

ii'  \  (';,  ;!v  \  on 

that  ili(,-\    \viil  acfain  lelie 

distressed  :  so.     ]  iinvi- 

done.  m\-  broiiic;1  !  ,      Lei  \vhai 

VOU  ll  - 

Irother  !"  replii         I  .  ••  i  ;  \>]  , 

pie  have  ] 
for   ii.      15; 

doilbl.  •!!!••:! 

innocf  .r  the  punishm-;  ni  •  'kno'.v- 

:itv,ray!?  to  ( 

.    .  n  I'lii   shall    r;  n 
'_:oon  ioi'!' 

Shii;.0"is-.-;  no\\    :  ,   .      •       . 

afterv.  aivi--  \i  iu  n  tv,  • . 

ward?  I '!,;  .  .    thev 

\vere    I  ovd,  the  sirm?.! 

by  whirh  they  inibri  ler  that    ihere  is  a  far-  np- 

proachir.o-.      AY  hen    :  ic'hed    C'ii;:rif-s.    they    inl< 

him  that  there  v.-as  a  ; .'  i>i'ihe  \vitlrm 

n  short    ciists.'ve  .      W:-;H 

\-evv    sorr\  :-     hand   'o   n^s:-?!    in     re:if'- 

iin.T  iliein. 

'rii(:y  Jiad  hardiy  delivered  their  rnessa^v:  \vhi"'!i  ill--  \PV- 
rific  war-\vhoop  v.  as  jieart!  tejri.se  Irorn  iliderent  (jiiarlers 
of  the  woods  at  once;  and  (,'haiies  had  iiardh.  time  ;o  ioiTn 
his  men  into  a  posture  of  defence,  ere  a  continued  peal  ot 
rnusketrv  beiran  to  rattle  all  around,  and  a  sho\ver  of  bnHet.-' 


i   it  I         V'    I  |,IM-.K>  I     -  -"»  i 

.•:  invisible,  rushed  'iirnu/i!  the  interstices 

• 
'••••    uttoiiipliii'j  to  thm\v   up. 

ti,    ann 

:  siti  was  ex- 

• 

icuiy,  .  on    to  hi  iie',  e     tii:;i   it     was 

i     (iid   they  kunv. 

'       •  •    '   '      •:'•:•:-:.       !'()]•     C\  Kl"\ 

.•pon 
••'  (I  ram- 
• 

".  and 

'     them.-'.'  iVl      , 

:  •     in1,!.-!! 
HS    })U  .  '  ' 

\\  :•  ••  liter! 

r.  it 
to  cut  ::   passMijc  i  i    • 

• 
• 

I 'is 

rlK'fl    loild  : 

lldfU'l] 

I  lion  h\"  'i   j  •  ;  •     inn  n  v>  '>;•• 

. 

0    :  •  .,      i  -  ,  • 

•  \  •    i  !     1 1  > 

'!if    liijlitiii'j.  :•«((   io  ina 

• 
1 

'•I'lUCUtS    111'     I)''  I  \        Clil'l'l 

-"I    ;o 

:JU]     ',     i 

H(   hufi  h'ni  -  -  h;_  ieet  with  mor 

'  'I  wounds,  wii'  P  •  i-cd  ••)!!'•   oi    more   'han  ordinnvv 

;renrrth,    >'atcline> .-,    val'.mr.    :uu!    lif-vrni  >-s,    approaching 

•;r]Th  the  utmost  tur\-  m    In     c"i:nfcn^nf'e.       U  hnn  w^hin    '.' 


few  \ards  ni    '    harles  In-  stopped,  and   railed  in   a   loud  am; 
commanding' voice    in    iho'-r  v,  ho  \vere    hirhiin;:    v/nh   bin 

ceased,    nnd    withdrew    to    ; 

<  '11:  .if  s  stood  linn  and  roller  tod,  wailing  the  atl 
formidable  s;i\ai'".  for  'h>'  laMcr  had  paused  in  hi 
as  if  to  scrutinize  the  appearance  of  his  anta 
niei'i:;  mode  (  !  attack  upon  one  so  wnahv  of  hi, 

valor  —so  apparent!'-.    \v<  11  nJrulated    to  call    f«nh  i's  who'.-' 
'.   a:id    prove   its   in  •,  iueihilit v.      <  '  a  his   part, 

perc  ived  thai  ih-.-  struo-ufle  \v?is  likd\    !•->  he  a  hard  one,  and 
he  lilt  a  senae  of  self-consratulation  ilia'  it  \v;is  s  •    bi 
if  (]•    conqui  :•••(!.  IK.-  should  rid    the  \vo,'!d  of  one  wlio.  if  lu 
li\'ed.  was  likeK   to  he   -,\  scourge  fo  his  countrymen,  and   if 
lie  hiniselt'  diet!,  lie  should  die  hy  the  hands  of  a  hero. 

The*»  thoughts  had  ihe  duration  onlv  of  a  inoiiietit.  foi 
the  savage  was  soon  at  the  :'::;-riv.  Having  observed  tin- 
kind  of  weapon  possessed  !>v  Charles,  as  if  disdainine  to 


ponent  whom   he  wished  to   li^ht  only  o  t<  nns— li< 

threw  the  battle-axe,  with  wlii'-h  he  had  often  turned  the 
tide  of  victors  against  his  enemies,  a\vav,  and  oceupii 
a  inoinent  in  snatching,  from  the  ds'in;;  <j':':!sp  o!'  (.'aptain 
Rulo;cl\-  wlio  had  fallen  near  him.  hi.-  .-  v.  .-.I.  which  war 
nearh  of  the  same  sjy.e  mid  formation  \\:'!i  thai  of  his  an 
tagonist. 

At  this  iiiMa.nl.  Charles  pmd  a  tacit,  but  iiejli  complnm  n1 
to  the  ma^naniniits'  of  his  opponent.  b\  iflinquishii 
station  at  the  tree,  and  coming  forward  to  meet  him  in  ilu 
open  spare:  for  he  instinr'n  ely  felt  that  the  follow  rs  of  a. 
lirave  man,  althoui;h  thev  should  lie  savatres.  \vould  not  dare 
io  disgrace,  both  him  niid  themselves,  bv  using1  unfaii 
means,  in  the  moment  of  combat,  to  secure  bun  die  vic 
tory. 

The  combatants  no\\  met,  and  licj-ce  mid  terrible  was  the 
encounter.  l-'or,  ahhoimli  ;he\  resjiected  each  other's 
bravery,  each  was  determined  to  destrov  or  die.  The  In 
dian  managed  his  unusual  weapon  with  wonderful  adure>-  , 
and  ii  required  all  ('harles's  skill,  (and  he  wa<  an  eihicatei; 
swordsman,"  io  ward  o!]  the  lierv  ,  the  rapid--  almost  iu\i,i 
bly  rapid,  mid  n^ailv  overwhelming  thrust?,  strok*-?.  and 


tin;   WILDERNESS. 


movements  of  his  antagonist.  And  when  at  the  beginning 
of  the  contest  lie  tried  on  his  part  to  strike-,  or  thrust,  he  was 
always  baffled  l>y  so  mo  unexpected,  am!  unaccountable  turn 
of  iiis  opponent's  weapon  or  bodily  position.  Thr  savage, 
however,  could  make  no  impression  upon  him.  He  was 
too  well  acquainted  with  every  mameuvre  of  parrying  for 
that.  Botn  wciv  beirinmni;'  to  be  wearied,  and  provoked  at 
suc.h  an  unavailing  contest,  when  f'harles  refiec'.eu  that  even 
if  he  should  in  th'.:  end  conquer,  there  v,  as  no  possibility  of 
escaping  the  terrible  tortures  destined  to  one  captured 
by  such  iocs,  hundreds  of  whom  stood  around,  ready  to 
seize  and  carrv  him  bound  lo  torment  and.  death,  the  mo- 
•jn.en:  his  victory  should  be  declared.  This  idea  rendered 
him  desperate  :  and,  almost  careless  uf  con:[ues(.  lie  made 
a  spring  lik'-  lightning  for  suddenness,  upon  the  Indian's 
swoi  de  ol  wliic'ii  he  caiifflil  lirmly,  but  most  unex- 

•  his  I'-t'i  ii;ind.  (for  the  Indian,  who  had  hitherto 
beheld  him  lio-h;  rather  cautious!'-,  bad  not  calculated  on  a 
rrio\omon!  of  so  much  rashness.)  and.  thrusting  it  aside  with 
uncontrollable  Ion';  .  be  dashed  his  o\vn  into  his  opponent's 

Ttic  iiidian  tell,  and  expired  without  a  "roan,  a  fare;  which, 
at  that  instant,  tbe  conqueror  ardentlv  wished  had  been  his 
own  ;  lor  as  many  sa\aofo  hands  as  could  lay  hold  of  him, 
:iad  I'.MU  si •!/,(•(!  lnin,  and  he  was  carried  away  tionnd.  aloni; 
with  (it  veil  of  his  company,  who  were  also  prisoners,  (ihe 
remainder  having  been  killed  on  the  ti:  id.)  to  ih>'  Chippe- 
way  ('n'.'.'impnn'ii',  to  undergo  the  investigation  and  judg 
ment  of  liii-  \  ic.oi  ions  chiefs. 

All  tiie  wa.y  TO  the  encampment,  which  was  on  the  north 
sid'^  of  the  Ohio,  about  two  miles  from  the  field  of  battle,  the 
Indians  continued  shouting  and  daueinir,  and  singing  sonsf.s 
of  triumph,  in  a  manner  so  wild  and  frantic,  tlvir  to  their 
unfortunate  prisoners  their  conduct  appeared  tainted  with 
actual  madness.  It  was  wearing  near  the  evenini:  when 
they  arrived  at  the  camp,  which  was  composed  of  a  number 
of  rud."  and  hastily  erected  tents  and  wigwams,  in  one  of 
which  the  chiefs  assembled,  and  having  approved  of  an  ap 
propriate  Song  of  Vietorv.  ordered  two  of  their  best  singers 
>'o  chant  it  in  the  hearing  ol  all  the  warriors,  nnnv  of  whom 
fi 


joined  in  the  chorus.      As  one  of  the  prisoners  happem  u  l< 
preserve  a  copy  ol'  tins  song,  u  has  ronie  into  our  possession, 
and  we  heir  Icavr-    i<>  ofFei   ihe  folio  wine  ion   of  u   '.- 

our  readers. 


Aow  UK.  storm  .  .      •    >'ei  , 

V'ictorv  itic  brave  has  cro-.vn'd - 
Heroes  '  we  eyiih  oner.-  nmr;  , 

O'er  the  lii'.ni  contested  .I-P 

Ka:s  mph  r;  ::h 

Let  ij  . 

And  to  our  uuhor's  spirits 
fiov-'  tlicir  soiu-i  iuive  ibi^jlil.  so  wcji 
llri'.v  ti;c\   cruslli 

How  tiicy  liiici  the  white  man  low  : 
And  how  tlicir  hn'.ini.lv  siii.iis  to  tamo. 
They  bound  tinTii  o  -  the  i;-  M  <>('  tli'm-  ! 
\o\. 

Krrini  clinics  tovvr.rii  'iir-  risinjr  day, 

The  iiii.riul(;rs  iiitin-r  !.e.iit  ihcir  wn.\  ; 

Thcv  loved  th.°  couhir    \vc  posses^.-d  ; 

Our  iiiitisf:  ro::i'in  o!';l:o  west  : 

Thcv  r;i!iic  '•.  ith  in'irdt-roiis  fire  and  hrajiH. 

To  drive  n:;  iroui  our  /»!  Her'-,  , 

But  \vnrriors  !    wi  :  icm  know, 

Tlic  > 

Noi 

J'ho  pi"i:si.j  'I.  "ijic  bi  a\  c 
Our  I     never  ccriic  lo  teil  ; 

Our  son?  sbail  henr  their  deeds  of  fhvnr. 
And  v.aririly  rlow  to  do  the  sains; 
Our  (i.  vveavfi, 

Such  as  U'ue  heroes  si:o::  ,u  n  cei\  e 
To  crown  tho  ir.einr,vv  nt'th.-  clcr.ri, 
AVhn  gloriour-ly  i;;  b:;!ti''  :i!«l. 

Nov.-  tr.o  storia  of  buttle"*  o'er,  ^n. 

After  tliis  son^,  tlie  >\boi:  ravage  parly,  v.  hirh  consi.sti' 
of  nearly  tliree  lumdred,  -.jK/nt  {lie  rcmaincli-r  of  tlui  evenii 
in  feasting,  dancing,  ami  every  species  of  exhibition  th.;- 
could  contrive  to  displn\"  their  frdiirrs  of  triuinpli  and  f-xn 


The   prison"  rs    were   exposed   tu   view   dimiiii   the 

of  these   revels,  in   order  to  stimulate  the  joy  of  the 

i  ".-pliers,  hv  keeping  in  their  minis  n  prrp'-'rual  reeolleetion 

ieir  victory,  a?  well  as  to  morlifv  their  enemies,  by  re- 

.ip(]iiH!  them  (•','  their  v;  c  nuiit.ion.  and.  tlif  doifra- 

.  .>d    :m<i   deplorable  state  t»  \^  liich  the  -  en^eauce  :uul  valor 

conquerors  ind   reduced  thorn.      A«  h-nirth.  tin;  liour 

t' reposn  nrrivcd.  isiid  the,  wrefi'hed  prisoners,  relieved  from 

;;:iiii!'ul  sitiiation  v,  here  the\    h;id  performed  the  part  oi 

j  iMit-  specf'icle?,  were  huddled    tonrether  in  a  \\-itf\vani,  and 

!•  ft   liter:-   to  endure  the  ir.tnleradh-,  H<_ronv  of  tlieir  own   re- 

1  TMinns   until   the  inomin<_r.      They  were   all   securely   tied 

t  .   hoth   tiici;    arm-   ant!    le(_r>.  and  a  sutKirient  Lruard   of  In- 

itioned   mund  the  wigwam,  to   render  their  escape 

impossible. 


t  1!  VI'TKR    VI. 

M'urk  voritlf.-r  tlio  i  nptivc  '    Ir--  aft'irr,  i>.  <icci-.-> 

His  mfM-cilrss  i'nos  to  tlit>  liicrcrot  h:ive  hound  liinr. 
'so  ii-!y  they  ETIV<   ;    the  ;'ui>r  whiic  mail  unoi  oio<'.i, 

U  Ilili  '  ,   •  ':    ,"•  mnrl   iiiiu. 

Hut  \\  -  •'      V,"li:it  f-'ti  i         is  ii>-  ? 

\V!io  linrsrs  t'niin  tin-  iniiiintair.-top  do'.v;i  ta  his  su:ci  / 
•'!',s  the  n;')ck(-r  of  fortune,  the  ie:irlcss  and  frt-M  . 

.     •  •   i  en  n  see. 

n     Scsi  \i>s 

The  reflections  of  (/harle>;  Ad«i«Tlv  duriii'.1'  this  nielnn- 
•  (>!v  ni'_'hl,  '  'vperieneed  lnM  <Mie  >|n>rt  Imur's  intermission 
I);  mi  i  [ilil--  b(  fore  da\-lireak, 

».\   ien  Ins  imn  ted  him  with  ideas 

in 'oniparal;l\  more  [taiiifiil.  and  more  horrible,  than  his 
waking  thoughts.  A  coni'uscd,  unconnected,  Jind  unintelli- 
i/i!i)e.  Inn  tPrrifving-  rrowd  c<\'  ideas,  unonaiitirii  and  nnmitj- 


gated  by  nny  suggestions  of  hope,  or  effort  oi'  fortitude,  gave 
to  his  feelings  during  this  short  sleep  more  the  character  of 
agonized  macness  than  of  uneasy  dreaming,  and  when  he 
awoke,  he  fell  in  his  real  affliction  a  considerable  relief  from 
the  intolerable  pangs  inflicted  by  the  creations  otMii.s  imagi- 
nation. 

He  was  not,  indeed,  without  hopes  tliat  some  of  his  com 
panions  might  be  saved  from  the  Indian  cruelties  that  threat 
ened  them,  by  the  ell'orts  of  two  or  three  French  officers, 
whom  he  had  seen  among  the  victors  during  their  revels  tRe 
preceding  evening.  One  of  them  had  also  humanely  ad 
dressed  10  him  a  few  words  of  condolence,  but  without 
conveying  any  precise  hope  of  deliverance, 

At  length  the  sun  aro-e — and  the  victorious  Indians  start 
ing  from  repose,  the  noi.-e  and  bustle  of  life  again  animated 
the  camp,  and  broke  in  upon  that  monotonous  and  tedious 
dulness  which  had  been  so  oppressive  to  Charl-j-  during  the 
night.  Tv.'o  Indians  soon  entered  his  wigwam,  and  ascer 
taining  thai  none  of  the  prisoners  had  escaped,  distributed 
refreshments  among  them,  of  which  the  harassed  and  de 
sponding  feelings  of  the  majority  prevented  them  from  par 
taking. 

Shortly  after  this,  a  council  of  the  chiefs  met  to  deliberate 
concerning  the  prisoners,  who  were  ordered  to  be  present, 
that  they  might  receive  their  doom.  This  consultation  took 
place  in  the  open  air,  in  a  small  glade  that  skirted  the  banks 
of  a  rivulet,  or  run,  as  such  streams  in  America  are  usually 
called,  and  beside  which  the  encampment  was  situated. 
Here  the  prisoners,  tied  in  pairs  to  each  other,  were  seated 
on  the  ground,  near  the  centre  of  a  circle  formed  by  all  thc- 
warriors,  armed  with  guns  in  their  hands,  and  axes  and. 
tomahawks  in  their  belts.  Beneath  a  large  ehesnut-tree, 
near  the  centre  of  the  circle,  sat  seven  chiefs  and  three 
Frenchmen,  upon  logs  apparently  placed  there  for  their  ac 
commodation.  To  these  seven  chiefs  had  been  entrusted 
the  determination  of  the  fate  of  the  prisoners. 

When  they  commenced  their  deliberations,  they  spoke 
separately,  each,  when  he  had  any  thing  -o  say.  standing 
up,  and  generally,  but  not  always,  addressing  himself  to  an 
elderly  warrior,  who  appeared  to  be  their  principal  sachem. 


nu:    WH.UEKNKSS,  57 

ii    i>  niii,  but  \\  hn    had    nothii  dress    to   disnniniish 

hiiii  from  the  rest.      A^  ^aid.  was  communica 

ted    to    ;h>-    -  .     b\     which    means 

•ions  semir-ient?:, 

ion. 

'!":  i'  of  the  pris- 

:•'!,!  io  o'ivr  the   others   to 
:  mad"  bv  lot. 

Ti >  :  .:  :  '!' •    '•  •••  :    mid   one    ol    thorn 

Ht:i;i-.'iiiLr    i;:  folloving1    purpose: 

rted  v,  ;!rrioi'.s, 

,tha!  \  .  ni  v,  ouli  \",  here  fire  tlio>;f  \v;ir- 

riors  no'  Key  not  h:u)ir.  . 

havii  b"\\ : cly  .'      1C  they 

•'!•(    '';  •!•    •  .  ' •    •  al  they  rf! jui:v 

:  iijo iv  ,<o  .'       "Will 


svisli 

will  nevei  lake  any 

•it    \'d'ir    people  |)ri.t;o    ;    •          '!';!.'••'   art-    a    warlike!    nation. 

!la\:    yoi  n  ofaiuino- victories  ?     "NVeri; 

lu-y    i!"1    •  ••••    Philip'?   v;ars  .'      'j'hinlc    \  ou, 

lieu.  '  any  i  v'  \  o\i  prisoner    '     And 

Miiiik  •".   t'lcif  brethi1!".!. 


•'!  :      •  .   i  [ear  i::  \    answer 

•')  your  ('i!!-  <!(•;;:' r'cii  f'riiMids  \\ c  know  to  he  hap- 

iy,  nor  do  v.  c  think  that  i;  will  makr  them  more  so  to  hum 

prisoners   on    t!  mill.      !5ut   ii  will  show  them 

nir    ali'ection.  and    thf^v  v>  ill   s;:\    to    r-.irh    olhn',  --Our   hro- 

'icrs    !m<     U-:    so,  ih:1.!    i'v  i    eiulnr;1    t'ie    people    hy 

horn    we    :': •}}.      See    !i  in         iUein    tVom    the 

••  !  :•  !    Ii'  lish    do    not    hum    us    v/hen    they 

lake    11-  :,    c    the\    love    us,   bill    he- 

luse  iiic\'   i  •  rii-'i-ii'--  ;    and    ihe    r.'iison  whv   we 

,irn    them    is    no!    her   ii-e  we  hale  tliem,  hut    hceause    we 

;  -vere  the  was  of  our  la: hers,  and  walk   in  them. 


58  THK     WII.DKRVr:SS. 

"  Brother  !  Let  the  llnylish  adopt  our  eii>tonis  if  ih'-y 
please,  it  will  not  dissatisfy  or  alarm  us.  Our  people 
have  beep,  often  burned  bv  our  enemies.  It  was  ihe>r  fn'e. 
and  we  submitted. 

••  on;,  brother,  i  wish  io  please  yon,  for  your  people  are 
our  allies  and  friends.  I  will  propose,  therefore,  that  since 
for  your  share  yon  are  10  ba\e  six*prisoners,  of  the  six  thai 
shall  remain  to  us.  we  .-hall  save  one  half  by  adopting  them 
for  our  sons.  With  the  other  half,  we  shall  support  the 
customs  of  our  fathers,  and  sacrifice  them  to  ihe  memorv  of 
our  slain  warriors. 

'•  Brother  !    Will  1his  satisfy  you  .'" 

The  French  still  remained  unsatisfied  ;  but  they  despaired 
of  making  am  iiener  terms  with  their  >av;;o<j  allies,  and 
were  about  to  trive  up  ;';ie  comes;,  when  one  of  them,  who 
had,  by  examining  the  prisoners,  found  that  there  were  four 
so  badly  wounded  that  they  were  not  likelv  io  survive  many 
hours,  conversed  a  lew  mimic  s  \\iih  his  c<  m  lanions,  and 
then  addressed  the  chief  of  the  council  ;-s  ibiiows  ;  -•  Bro 
ther!  Our  nation  and  yours  have  been  h/ii?  friends.  Wo 
have  been  often  useful  to  each  other.  V;  e  v,  ish  ;iet  now  to 
disturb  our  harmony.  _\o  seeds  of  strife  shall  be  sown  bv 
us.  If  you  u'ranl  us  one  '.iiinir,  vve  will,  therefore,  oppose 
you  no  further.  \\  e  wish  you  to  choose  tw>f  those  you 
will  adopt  as  sons,  and  then  permit  us  when  the  sun  goes 
down  this  c\eniiiff  to  select,  without  lot,  me  number  that 
falls  to  our  share1.  The  others  will  be  those,  you  will  offer 
according  to  your  customs." 

To  this  proposal  the  council  appeared  willing  to  accede. 
There  was  one  chiei  alone,  who  had  not  yet  expressed  his 
assent.  This  man,  indeed,  had  durinir  the  whole  proceed 
ings  hitherto  said  nothing  ;  but  he  had  manifested  inv-ai 
earnestness  and  attention  to  all  that  passed.  ills  counte 
nance  was  jjrase  an;!  mournful,  ami  he  was  somewhat 
elderly,  although  stiil  healthy.  stroiM/  and  ;ip;i\e  in  his  ap 
pearance,  lie  now  ro.-,e  in  considerable  agitation,  and  ad 
dressed  them  as  follows  : 

"  Warriors!  Behold  me  !  I  here  stand  alone,  like  an  old 
oak  that  has  its  branches  cut  from  around  it. 

*•  Brothers  !  I  know  von  jjrieve  4'or  me.      It  was  but  ves- 


THK     WILDERNESS.  -"'9 

terday  that  I  was  sheltered  by  a  sapling  that  orew  from  my 
ou  n  roots,  stronger  and  more  comely  than  myself.  That 
noh'e  sapling,  the  pride  ui  the  whole  iovest  of  uur  tribe,  has 
been  hewn  down  by  a  white  man,  and  1  sot;  thai  white 
man — mine  eye  pierces  ins  soul," — b^re  he  iixed  such  an 
intense  and  iierce  look  upon  Charles  as  lie  could  scarcely 
endure — "he  is  now  before  me  ! 

••  Brothers  !  i  disagree  to  the  proposal  made  by  our 
French  brother,  unless  you  will  except  from  the  number  to 
be  saved,  the  slayer  of  mv  son.  V<:  knew  Carrawissa. 
Were  not.  ye  proud  of  him?  Was.  he  not  an  example  to 
your  warriors  ?  \\  as  he  not  wise  and  valiant  ?  \  our  ora 
cle  in  peace,  and  your  thunder-bolt  in  war  ?  It  is  true  he 
was  but  •< 'ouiiii")  "i»d  had  ncl  the  gray  hairs  of  a  sage.  But 
ho;i  be  not  the  wisdom  of  on;'  ? 

••  \»  arrior.s  !  What  he  would  have  been  had  lie  lived  till 
ow  Isad  been  wrinkled  like  mine,  YOU  may  conjecture 
by  what  h"  was  ere  his  beard  required  puliin-j. 

••  Brothers  !    Attend  to  me  !     ['o  YOU  not  imeve  for  him  ? 


his  destroynr  '.      Jiut.  lie:\r  me  !    if 
cannot. 

'•  V>  arriors,  and  brothers  !  I  request  that  you  will  deliver 
him  who  bereaved  vou  of  a  hero,  and  me  of  a  son,  into  my 
hands,  and  that  he  may  be  made  an  offerinsr  to  the  memory 
of  that  hero,  that  be  may  iHm  the  vengeance  of  the  father 
who  lost  that  son.  The  man  that  slew  Carrawissa  must  be 
destroyed  bv  me,  or  else  my  sorrows  will  never  cease.  I 
will  not  vieid  to  the  proposal  of  our  French  brother,  because 
itriiii;-lit  depri\e  me  of  m\  victim. 

••  Brothers  and  warriors!    you  ha\e  heard  me." 

The  \\hole  paitv  oi'  the  Indians  seemed  much  aiFected 
with  this  address,  and  remained  imhdiiiiiLr  a  deep  melan 
choly  silence  for  some  minutes  after  the  speaker  sat  down. 
\t  leiio-;ii  one  oi  die  counsellors  arose,  and  in  a  solemn  tone 
addressed  me  assembi\  . 

••  I  have  heard  ( 'arrawoona,  and  I  am  affected.  \Vbathe 
•;aid  is  true.  .His  MIII  \\as  a  hero,  areater  than  his  ft  Hows, 
.us  the  noble  ea;de  is  i_n'(  aler  anil  more  i;cnerous  tlian  the 


60  ,  HK    \vri.m-i;N':ss. 

buzzard  or  the  li:i\vk.  Y,  e  v                  :  of  him.  for  he  was 

a  Chippeway,  and  n  •••••,   his  equal.      It 

;vas  \ir,\  yesterday  v  ?aicl,   ••  Xow  we  nil]   train  the 
victor 

what  IP  rip- IT;.      Kr- 

has  as  '  -    ••  ed,  bv 

:' —  who    -o 

accepts  •  i  ( 'an  \ve  rofusi 

«o  jus!  ,i  (Vmand  .'      Can  we    <ay,  il  ( 'arrawoona,  \vr 
i'or    vour  son's  den  ill,  •  o  v  ill  i,"1 

mirrd  hiiii.  •    \\  e  lovrd  him,  but 

*v('  will 
-liiuii;  vanishes 

,•  so ,  C  i  i  i  p  p  o  w  P.  •    . 
of  that   her ).        I 
have   tremb     ' 
voui;,  -  had  H::M;\    • 

spare  iiiin  .'     ( )>  •  ivill  noi  ask  M 

.1  mal i"".      iiu!  shoiii.i  the;  msent, 

d.      '  ;   ;;    niuc'li    that 

wo   i! .•  who   kill'-'d 

!iini  .' 

••  [Jrothcrp.  ai]  \     To  ]  \viil 

pro]!' '.  •  .'.'  M!"  our  hrro 

be  theirs.      Lei  them  -  v/is!i   it.  bin  him   I 

will  noi   consent   to  pavi  .  •  •   Carra- 

woon;'.  to  : 

"Brothers,  you  have  hoard  mv  opinion." 

This  opinion,  so  inimical   to   our   hero,  was  embraced  by 
the  whole  of  ih<  ^ral  unavailing 

attempts  on  the  part   of  the   Frei!-h    !%) 
they  i 

Char.es  \vas  feel  to  t!  •    and   his   exo- 

f.ution  \vas     .  •          •  (lie  d:;-('c;io5i  of  Car- 

niwoon:;,  "beibi'i    ih.e  .-."'  as  tin'  r-lii;'f  siichem 

expressed  ii,  v.'iien  pronotincinf;  1h  •  deoisii'M.  o!  tlii"1  '..'o-.p.ri!.. 
''should  conceal  himself  behind  the  trees  that  oversliadowed 
fhe  bills  of  the  \Vest."  The  chief  sachem  had  ii.nbhi.-c!  the 


TilK     WILDERNESS.  t>  1 

awful  annunciation,  and  all  the  prisoners,  except  the  de 
voted  Charles,  had  been  "riven  over  to  the  French,  when 
seme  straggling  Indians,  a*  a  distance,  were  heard  to  give  a 
peculiar  shout,  denoting  both  joy  and  admiration,  by  which 
was  indicated  the  approach  of  some  distinguished  and  res- 
peeled  visitor. 

The  sounds  of  "Tonnaleuka  !  Tonnaleuka!"  were  soon 
heard  from  numbers  oi  the  assemblv  ;  and  Charles  per 
ceived  a  man  rapidly  descending  amidst  the  woods  from  an 
abrupt  rising  ground,  which  bounded  to  the  northward  the 
low  glade  where  the  council  was  held.  lie  stopped  a  few 
yards  from  the  warriors,  when  the  counsellors  ail  rising  up, 
saluted  him  with  a  sound,  denoting  "welcome,  tliou  messen 
ger  of  God!"'  and  the  chief  sachem  united  him  to  come 
forvs  an.1. 

lie  \\  as  venerable,  grave,  and  rnejestic  in  his  appearance, 
and  in  his  manner  there  was  something  wonderfully  awful. 
His  head  was  bear,  for,  when  lie  slopped,  he  had  taken  off 
a  can  of  buffalo  skin,  which  IK;  held  in  his  left  hand,  and 
had  lifted  his  countenance  1o\\ards  heaven,  in  the  attitude 
of  devotion.  That  countenance  displayed  an  uncommon 
decree  of  fervor,  dignity,  and  intelligence.  His  nose  was 
oi  the  aquiline  form,  and  his  cheek-hones  siightlv  promi 
nent,  but  well  turned,  and  proportioned  so  as  to  give  an 
oval,  rather  than  a  broad  outline  of  countenance.  His  fore 
head  was  high  and  round,  imperceptibly  rising  backwards 
into  a  broad,  smooth,  and  shining  crown,  altogether  bald, 
but  from  the  sides  of  which,  and  from  behind,  abundance  of 
long  black  hair,  mixed  with  gray,  streamed  down  upon  his 
shoulders,  and  was  arranged  so  as  to  cover  part  of  his 
checks,  and  hang  on  each  side  upon  his  breast  for  several 
inches  beneath  his  chin.  From  his  dark  piercing  eyes, 
(here  issued  an  expression  of  authority  almost  overpower 
ing  to  the  beholder,  but  which  excited  a  feeling  of  rcveren- 
•>a.l  awe  r.ith.t  r  than  personal  peril. 

His  dress  was  simple,  consisting  ()f  a  long  flannel  gar 
ment,  like  a  shirt,  wiih  short  s!ee\es.  the  skirls  of  which 
reached  down  to  the  eahes  of  his  legs.  Abo\e  this,  a  wide 
mantle  of  bison-skin,  thrown  round  his  shoulders,  ilowed 
looselv  over  his  arms  and  down  his  back,  in  the  manner  of 


:  1 1  K    w  i ) . 1 1 :  :KN i 

a  yhort  cloak.  His  moccasins  and  leui/ins  of  half-tanned 
•leer-skin.  wen:  ni'  tho  usual  construction,  and  completed 
every  thins  observable  in  h  H  d'-e^.  except  a  leathern  holt 

•     Mil  I'll, 

'or  con  ,  .  - 

roceii   •<'• 

' rom.  the  Gri  him  to 

be.      ! ;i  hi--  ri'/i:!   han  v  nidi 

r;n  JVou)  birds  of  dii- 
colors,  whicb  is  looked  i 

and  irnve  it  the  name  ol     in1  "proph<  t's  wai 

\A  ben  lie  approac!  :.  iu1   lichL  stretched  out, 

this   \v:u\d  to ".;ird   u>  ed  hini   as 

!ollo\>;i--  : 

'•?uv  !irr>tlif-r — I  am  ':.      'i'he  d'reiil 

\vli!>in    yon  \no\vs 

•;  'i\i      i  hearken  to  rue,  ; 
for  m y  v/or 

•    ::    (rood 

'•piri!,  to   me  )  .      i  \vill, 

e.ly.        N  Great 

i   von 

execute  it,  von  v.'iii  ojYend  l:!in  .-L!;!  more,  M;moio  loves 
YOU.  He  luis  <riven  you  ;i  gr^at  victory.  Uc  ii?s  cast  do\vn 
your  enemies  i>efore  you:  ;nid  he  now  warns  von,  lest  you 
sin  to:>  much  a-/ai;i?f  l\\ir\.  and  provoke  him  to  consume 
you  IT: on.1  than  .  i  warning, 

-in  not ! 

i  i.t  my  voice!  Manoto  wishes  you  to  spare 
this  young  \varric.r.  You  know  he  madn  the  white  people 
as  well  i:;:.  the  red,  and  can  govern  both  in  any  manner  he 
pleasr  :  i-i'orni. 

which  -    re,  calls  upon 

you  to  -'r  i v~  possession. 

11  I>r-.  ITS! — yon    luiv:'  henrd.      Will  VIM; 

obey  thri  voi(".?  01' ti;0  Go1)ri  Sniril,  at'd  ]>rese"ve  his  'ove.  or 
will  you  disobev  hi;n,  and  provoke  his  vengeance  < 

"Brother!   say,  wiiat  is  your  choice?" 

The  chief  sachem  ;iros^,  and  replied: 


I  ill.     U  il.DKKNi.-.^.  0-- 

••  prophet  !  I  wiii  give  ;uv  own  opinion.  The  Great 
Snhit  should  be  obeyed.  \\  e  are  'lie  \vorkmanshif)  oi  his 

:  our  sub  i  .  •  we 

\vii'.  i'or  him.   i 

:     i  '11110, 

nor  water  10  drink,  nor  weapons  io  dcsiroy  our  enemies. 

"  Prophet !  you  say  iic  has  u.se  lor  this  prisoner,  whom 
we  \v(  re  ^oinjf  to  burn,  Why  were  we  <,roing  to  burn 
him,  '.ml  to  please  tl  of  Carra\vissa,  which  yesterday 

left    its   body'       But  it  is  better  that  we;    should    please    the 
(I:-  :at  Spirit   who  ha?  existed  forever,  and  can  easily  recom 
pense  ( 'arr:i\vi-sa,  if  wo  do  him  r.n  injury. 

'4  Brothers  and  warriors!  i  think  none  of  you  will  refuse 
to  ijivc  our  prisoner  to  the  prop'iet,  Tonnaleuka,  ;is  ihe  Great 
S|)irit  e()i]Hn;.:  [f  any  one  refuses,  we  will  hear  him. 

If  none  spi  aks,  i  sliall  order  the  prisoner  to  lie  loosened,  and 
given  to  the  prophet." 

lie  heie  paused  fu,'  '''i'b — ';l1'  all  continuing 

siient,  he  was         ,  ng  ;;p  of  the   pri.-;-- 

OIK  r,  \\  hen  Carr.iw  •  tion. 

"  VVh.at  !  Iir''tiie!>  !"  said  he,  "have  •  >>:\  so  soon  forgot 
inv  son  .'  Will  no  one  speak  in  his  behalf?  lias  he  no 
liiend  here,  who  \viii  ;;sk  iusiiee  for  him?  1  cannot  believe 
tin,-'  siory  (,['  Tom;  have  sometimes  s]>o- 

kt  n     !'a'se!\-,    or   th(!\"    n  .;    dreiMns    for   tin-. 

orders  of 

•  inc.      The  G  rit   Io veil  Carra \vissa,  and 

nut'  r  him  a  liero.  Think  ye  tiirn,  that  he  couhl  tlius  c-oni- 
iriaiid  u.-.  to  defraud  Ins  memory  of  the  aceustomed  sacrifice.' 
I,  lor  one,  cannot  Jhiuk  ii— I.  lor  on  •,  will  not  consent  to 
spare;  ihe  pri.MHiel .  fi"  (^arrawissa  i,;:.;  n  friend  in  this 
rouiicil,  let  him  n.->\v  speak." 

'.  >  In  :i   h'1   sat   do\\  n,  ihe    same  chief  that   had  so  warmly 

,  iiause    ni    the  former  part   of  the  deliberations 

\\n\\     i, 

"  I'rother !     f  ;  ,.i    the   Iriend  <  n  noiv ;    but 

I  am  a  U'orshippcr  .  ,  :  •  (ireal.  !>j>!ril,  and  v.i-di  more  to 
obey  Him,  tliau  m  p  ,  i'ncnd.  I  sjxike  lor  yoiir  son 

to-day: — \'ou  heard  me.  i  sju»kc  ;-:iie!Toi\ — but  1  did  not 
'lien  know  the  will  of  JManem.  lie  wishes  lor  tin:  victim 


64  rjIE     W 

\v.'  intended  for  your  son.  That  victim,  your  son,  and  all 
of  UP,  are  his  already,  lie.  onlv  asks  for  hi*  own.  \V<: 
cannot  refuse  him — and  your  ?on  cannot  be  offended.  Car- 
raw  issa  is  loo  jusi.  to  u?k  from  us  what  is.  not  out:-  lo  give, 
and  too  geucruiis,  to  be  angry  for  our  not  doing  \vhat  we 
cannot.  lie  saw,  from  o;ir  decision'  to-day,  that  our  heart? 
were  with  him,  that  our  desires  were  to  please  him,  and 
that  it  delighted  us  to  do  him  honor.  He  \viil  not.  there 
fore,  blame  us  for  surrendering  to  the  prophet  of  Maneto 
what  we  had  devoted  to  him,  but  what  Maneto  claims  a^ 
his  own.  Nay,  hearken  to  me; — he  loved  Maneto  so  well, 
that  he  will  rejoice  ia  yielding1  his  offering  to  him;  and 
Maneto  will  reward  him,  for  he  returns  all  services  ten-fold. 

"Brothers  and  warriors  !    we  must  give  up  the  prisoner." 

Carrawocna  again  rose,  and  in  a  hasty  and  impassioned 
manner  exclaimed — 

"Brothers!  hear  me  again!  I  am  but  one  among  hun 
dreds,  and  my  voice  is  nothing.  But,  were  I  only  one 
among  thousands,  I  would  let  you  hear  if.  I  say,  the  man 
who  slew  my  son,  shall  die!  I  will  hunt  him  over  the 
earth,  till  he  be  sacrificed.  My  heart  must  have  revenge  ! 
Ma;u>to  could  never  forbid  it.  I  do  not  believe  what  tin 
prophet  says.  He  says  that  Maneto  wants  this  white  man. 
What  can  he  want  with  him  I  Are  there  not  plenty  of  In 
dians  to  perform  his  errands,  and  to  worship  him?  .  And 
are  they  not  more  faithful  to  him,  and  more  beloved  by  him. 
than  the  superstitious  white  men,  who  have  so  many  dif 
ferent  creeds?  If  it  be  true,  that  Maneto  wants  some  one, 
would  he  not  prefer  an  Indian  1  If  the  service  he  wishes  to 
be  done  requires  honestv,  are  not  Indians  more  honest  than 
the  whites?  What  Indian  defrauds  his  neighbor? — If  it 
requires  bravery,  are  we  not  brave?  Think  of  our  last 
battle.  If  it  require,-,  wisdom,  think  of  our  sages,  and  our 
old  men,  endowed  with  prudence. 

"  Hear  me  brothers! — I  will  not  believe  that  for  any  pur 
pose  the  Great  Spirit  would  prefer  a  white  man  to  an  Indian. 
Has  Tonnaleuka  said  what  Maneto  wants  with  the  prisoner  ? 
If  Maneto  wanted  him,  he  would  have  told  for  what  purpose. 
But  he  has  not,  or  we  would  have  heard  it.  if  Tonnaleuka 
be  his  prophet. 


i  III.     WiLUKK.NKSs.  ('.) 

"Brothers! — you  perceive  these  is  something  wroni,'  in 
ihis  matter.  Me  not,  like  children,  ready  to  believe  eveiy 
-lory:  nor  upon  such  a  slight  pretence,  deprive  my  son  of 
his  ri<:hL.  Act  wiselv.  (.'omplv  with  the  diatoms  of  your 
fathers,  or  retrain  irom  lliem  only  when  vou  have  some 
sufficient  reason. 

'•  Warriors  !  1  only  ask  justice  for  my  son,  and  the  (Jreat 
Spirit  never  yet  opposed  justice.'' 

He  sat  do\vn,  and  Tonnaleuku  airain  advanced.  Me 
pointed  his  sacred  wand,  tin:  very  motion  of  which  had 
power  to  strike  awe  into  the  minds  of  the  savages,  three 
tiines  towards  heaven,  and  three  times  towards  each  mem 
ber  of  the  council,  lie  then  raised  it.  and  stretching  his 
arms  upwards  with  his  eyes  directed  to  heaven,  exclaimed  : 

"Ob.  (ireat  Spirit!  what  is  man,  that  he  should  question 
thy  will  !  Didst  thou  not  make  him  !  Dost  thou  not  sus 
tain  him  !  Is  not  the  irromul  ho  treads  on,  thine. !  Is  not 
the  litrht  he  sees,  thine  !  Is  not  every  step  he  takes,  and 
every  breath  he  breathes,  dependant  on  thy  will  !  And  he 
presumes  to  dispute  thy  ri«;lit  to  thy  creatures.  lie  dares 
to  ask  for  what  jmrpo.se  thou  layest  claim  to  thine  own  ! 
(ilory  lie  to  thee,  that,  ihou  dost  not  consume  him  in  the 
instant  of  his  presumption  !  Thou  art  merciful — infinitely 
more  merciful  than  he  is.  Thou  acquittest  when  he  would 
condemn  ;  thou  iorifivest  when  lie  would  revenue  ;  thou 
sparest  when  lie  would  destiny.  Happy  is.  it  for  him,  that 
thou  art  not  like  him  ! 

"Oh  Maneto,  hear  me!  \\ilt  thou  now  indulge  the  vain 
questions  of  him  who  disputeth  thy  will  .'  Oh,  wilt  thou 
an.'Wer  his  sinful  inquiries  '" 

lie  here  paused  tor  about  a  minute,  during  which  he 
seemed  to  mutter  somet!iin</  in  a  .-npernalural  lan^ua^e,  and 
displayed  so  much  the  impressive,  sublime,  ami  entranced 
appearance  o|  one  holding  communication  with  superior 
beings,  ihat  all  present  o'a/ed  silently  upon  him  with  sjiell- 
1 101 1  ml  attention  and  astonishment. 

At  len^ih  he  wa>  heard  to  say  :    "  Thanks  !  thanks  !     It  is 
hen    turmiiLi'   abrupdy  to  Carrawoona,  he 
hi:-    \\and,    and    \\'i;!i    an    ener^A     and    a 
even    lhal    hardy  sa\'a^:'    tremble,  he  ex- 


"  Son   of   pre-  '  who    woe1 

wishes   «if   God  •  i    am 

permit"'d  io   !:-ii    thi  • 

hadst  the  hardihood  to  ask.       Listi  '         k    IK 

more.      That  man  i:\   '  01  ds,  w  hose  He;  h  thi  u  would; 
in   the   lire   kindh  d  by  tli  i      n  the  favoi 

under  tht1  protection  of  the  Great  Spirit  :  and,  listen  farther. 
i  mil  commanded  i>v 

open  to   him   the    sacred    fount   of   in  piration,  to  lay  ' 
him  the  oracles  of  the   Groat   Father  contah  is  holy 

book,  which  p;  which 

profane  eyi  .  '  ok — and  which   none   bin   the 

favored  of  Heaven  can  understand.  Phi;  :  '  <!estinv 
allotted  to  thi*  youth — !<>!  :  ;  it  ii  he  d 

;-  Brotlier,"  s-ud  h<\  tur  ••  heni,  "I  claim 

thut  prisoner  in  the  iv-ime  c.f  the;  ({real  Spirit.  1  claiii- 
him  as  the  successor  to  my  gifts.  Order  him  to  be  un 
bound  !" 

The  chief  :•••:; ch em  in.-:;an!ly  complied.  Clir.rles  \v;\s  un- 
1/ound — aiid  Tor.mi'euk:;  advancing  towards  him.  ;-;;!(!: 

"  Foilosv  me,  my  son  !  Y\  e  i;o  to  \vor-hip  our  Gre;it 
Father  !" 

Charles  followed  bin  conductor,  \vho,  v;ilii  his  eyes  stea 
dily  fixed  upon  heaven,  in  ;u!  altitude  of  deep  and  solemn 
devotion,  \valke-i  slowly  I'rom  amidsi  the  assembly  towards 
the  cast,  leaving  every  iiuiividual  who  !)eh(-!d  him,  not  ex 
cepting  (.'arrawce-na  himself,  av.e--  ,!  immova 
bly  to  his  place,  as  if  !;\  ts  of  (  nch; 

It  was  several   mi'  'e    any  of  the  lii'lians,  recov 

ered  from  the  spell  that  was  over  them,  sufficiently  to  speak. 
Carrawoona,  whose  thirst  for  rev«^:  [ueror 

of  his  son  was  still  the  h-adin^  passion  of  his  soul,  was  she 
fu'st  to  vecovc'r  from  llr.it  temporary  i  ntrancemenl  v»  iiich  had 
produced  a  suspension  of  all  ;  i  sistildy  thiown 

over  the  \vhoh.'  assc'mblv  !;v  ihe  woiider-workinLr  powei1  "i 
Tonnaleuka's  energy  of  m.iimer,  and  preternatural  and  awful 
appearance.  Y\'ith  tht;  relurn  o!'  !;!S  faculties,  this  thirst  lor 
revenge,  heightened  now  !>v  the  irriiiition  oi'  opposition  aiui 
the  vcx:ition  of  dipanjioinln^ent,  returned  with  till  the  fe/ree 
jiml  rancotiv  with  wliicii  su;-h  a  feeli'iy  can  lire  a  savage 


. 

rriors  !    h  [   am    b  [  am  del  rauded 

—  1    iii;;    used    ill:       Did    mv    son    deserve    Mich    treatment  '. 
\Vould  (,'arrawissa  have  acted  so  to  the  meir.orv  of  an\ 

rriors  !    What  have  you  done  '      Think  of  ii.       N-  on 

-1  the    destroyer   ol    a    '  y  and  hero,  to 

,!';'•   from   his   bonds,  and    to    e  it    lire  through 

which  his  soul  should    have    been   sent.  i;s  a  grief-offering   to 

C-omlort  tiie  soul  of  your  hero. 

••  C'hippeways  !    ll  is  useless  now  to  ar>uo,      It  is  useless, 
to   raue.      It  is   nsele.-s    to  complain.      I    will    act.      Is    there 
man  here  who  will   act  wii!)  me  .'      i   '.viil  have  \\\\-  yen- 
Has    Carrawissa    here   any  friend  who    will    assist 
me.'      'ion  condemned  the  while  man.      I'v   your  sentence 
he  was  mine.       -i  on  nave  him  io  be   sacrificed  to  mv  wrath, 
''i  i>ur   o\vn   act   made   iii.n   i  LOU  could   not.   take;   him 

from  me.      i  will  yet   have  him,  and   execute  your  sentence. 
'•  \\  arriors  !     I   a<_>;ani   as!-;,    i-,   there   one    who    will    assist, 
me  .'" 

!!e  sat  down,  and  no   one   offering  to  reply,  the  chief  sa 
chem  addressed  him. 

••  (>ro  ksi  to  YOU.      1  will.      Hear  Tlie    pa 

tiently,  and  let  the  ma-  our  passion  yield  to  reason. 

N\  e  all  grieve  for  you.     Look  round — is  thqre  a  counttmance 
but   has  '2  net  u  poll   it  ! 

"  Brother!    Do  not  ii^iit  a'jairt*!  the  (Jreat  Spirit.     Do  not 

resist    the    will    of   Maneto  !      lie,  who    is    the   author   of  all 

hould    he    permiiied    to    re-i'iilale    all    tilings    as    he 

pleases.      ('  was  he,  and  n  il   we,  who  deprived  yon    ol    yen- 

ice.       ||i>    had    n   n  .',;   to  do  so.       Tile    ]);i-'one;'    was    his 

pi"i'e!'!y,   lielore    he    belonged    to    either    us    or   you.      L    am 

you  oppose  him.     It  is  awful,  brother!     For  our  parts 

we  would  oiler  our.-'elves  to  the  sacrifice  first. 

"Brother  !    w  against  Mane  to, 

we    must  in  \\ ',.    |',.;11- 

it  \\  ill  ie-jd  \~oii      •  .  lor  in  c  oMiend- 

m^'  wrdi   llie  (Irea!    Sp  :    i  overcome.       P'ersist 

iio',  or  \~oui    I  ale   \v  il  I    be    \\\  i  ill  ' 


Carrawoona  staried  to  his  fee!,  and  in  a  tone  of  rajro.  bor- 
derinir  upon  absolute  iVcii/y,  exclaimed  : 

"  Chippeways  '.  Have  J  no  friend,  then  !  Am  I  alone  in 
my  wish  for  justice  !  !)o  you  want  to  frighten  me  from  my 
purpose  !  You  should  have  known  loivj  since,  that  Carra- 
M'oona  cannot  be  frightened.  My  revenue  you  rail  mad 
ness.  But  I  rail  it  justice.  You  advice  me  to  desist  from 
soekmv;  it.  ['id  tlie  rocks  of  the  mountains  skip  like  the 
squirrels  of  the  tree.  Will  they  ohpy  YOU?  No.  Bid  the 
ronr  of  Niagara  resemltle  the  purlin<r  of  that  brook.  Will  it 
listen  to  you  .'  Mo.  Neither  will  I.  Hut  I  will  talk  no 
more.  1  will  pursue  the  destroyer  oi'mv  sun.  Mv  weapon 
shall  find  his  heart,  if  it  should  be  th.rou^h  the  lieart  of 'J'on- 
naleuk;i~  nay.  the  bosom  of  Maneto  will  not  protect,  him. 
Mnneto 'protects  no  one  i'lom  ius'ice.  [Jut  should  his  li^ht- 
nin'j  shrive!  me  on  tin1  instant,  if  I  only  obtain  vengeance  on 
mv  enemy,  1  shall  be  satisfied." 

lie  heio  <j:\\-c  a  sudden  ye!!,  and  made  a  leap  to  the  east 
ward,  as  if  he  intended  immediately  to  pursue  the  object  of 
his  resentment.  The  chief  sachem  ordered  him  to  be  slop 
ped,  when  a  warrior  risin;:.  called  out — 

''Brother!  Let  Carrawoona  lake  his  way.  We  have 
nothing  more  to  do  with  the  business.  \A  e  have  tnvcn  up 
the  prisoner  as  the  Great  Spirit  ordered.  Tie  has  not  ordered 
us  to  rest>-ain  Carrawoona's  madness.  We  should  not  take 
the  protection  of  the  while  man  out  of  the  hands  of  Maneto. 
Let  Carrawoona  jjo.  We  have  done  our  duty." 

The  furious  and  nntractable  savajje,  was  accordingly  al 
lowed  to  take  his  course  as  he  pleased,  and  the  assembly 
broke  up. 


CHAPTER  VI T, 

\  int-rry  day,  my  liovs.  \\e'il  ha\o, 

And  form  a  happy  ([uorum  ; 
i  'onfound  '.iii1  dog   v.  no  woul 

While  IIP  can  suair  the  jorum  ; 
\\  hiio  uniLT  inspires  \\e'!l  i'nsk  it  mil, 

.!  usl  a<  tin'  \vlmn  ma  v  please  us  : 
And  daddv  Care  \ve'll   kick  about, 

Till  lie  no  more  can  tea/e  us. 

S  A  VKI.  \  liOl'R. 

IT  will  be  readily  supposed,  that  the  French  officers  were? 
much  pleased  with  this  fortunate  termination  of  an  affair  in 
which  ;hey  had  so  much  intere-ted  themselves.  During  the 
time  that  their  feelings  alone  influenced  their  minds,  they 
indeed,  heartily  rejoiced.  But.  when  ihev  reflected 
on  the  political  consequences  th.it  might  arise  from  the  es 
cape  of  any  of  the  Mngli-h  prisoners,  especially  of  the  leader 
of  the  enterprise,  which  had,  as  every  one  of  tiie  prisoners 
m>w  knew,  been  defeated  by  their  secret  instrumentality, 
they  began  to  feel  u 'i;  asil v,  and  heanJly  to  wish  Charles 
\dderly  in  ]>•  n  in  Philadelphia,  or  any 

ither  place  whei-e  he  coidd  ini'unn  the  wcrld  of  what  they 
had  dune.  They  !(.i|  ;1  sirong  repugnance  to  have  ;;;iy 
'mman  b.  iug  .--a'Tiiired  in  the  cruel  niann'T  in  which  t!;e 
'ndians  often  sacnii  -ed  their  caplives  ;  but  they,  at  the  same 
hue,  dreaded  the  results  which  they  had  a  right  to  suppose 
mist  take  place  if  the  government  of  (Ireat  liritain  should 
iear  (ii  the  pan  they  had  taken  in  the  attack  upon  iiieir  sub- 
ects  in  the  time  of  peace.  Kilher  a  national  war  might  he 
1  -  p  'lice,  or  th'ir  own  government  might  disavow 
M'  ir  conduct,  and  dcii\'er  them  up  to  ihe  vengeance  of  the 

•I     m    ! '  i1    safety    of    Charles 
.     :  ".  ( i  i     ; 


ouh 


Til  10    WILDERNESS. 

safe,  arrival  a  mo  nil   las   friend,-',  he  would  not  fail   to  ti'ive  to 
the  political  world. 

'j'iie   con?in<i'ei;c,y,    hoy, 

consideration,  was  more  remote  and  uncertain,  th;:ii  that 
produced  by  the  splendid  and  unexpected  triumph  of  liu- 
munity  they  had  ju-t  witnessed;  ar.d  we  must  do  them  the 
justice  to  slate,  that  they,  for  some  time  at  least,  <iave  way 
to  the  amiable  impulse  of  feelinjr,  rather  than  to  the  selfish 
influence  of  policy.  The  more,  however,  thev  considered 
the  matter,  the  inlluence  of  the  political  consideration  in 
creased  ;  and  rather  than  he  brought  to  an  account  lot  their 
conduct,  by  their  own  jiovernment,  or  be  the  occasion  of  a, 
European  war,  of  which  they  could  not  forsee  the  conse 
quence,  they  became  the  more  heartily  inclined  to  wish  that 
the  prisoner,  for  whom  they  had  felt  so  much,  and  pleaded 
so  strenuously,  had  been,  by  some  means  or  other,  put  out 
of  the  way,  as  it  was  from  his  information  alone,  they  be 
lieved  they  had  any  thinir  to  fear. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  steps  they  had 
taken  to  defeat  the  designs  of  th.fi  British  Ohio  Company, 
were  altogether  unauthorized  bv  their  government.  The 
French  ministry  had  given  instructions  to  their  Canadian 
servants,  the  spirit  of  which,  at  least,  sufficiently  warranted 
all  they  had  done.  But  the  amenta  in  this  alh'iir  knew  too 
well  the  decree  of  reliance  to  place  upon  such  instructions, 
especially  when  they  are  at  all  vap-ue  and  indefinite  in  their 
particular  application,  as  these  happened  to  be,  when  it  suits 
the  interests  of  cabinet  ministers  to  disclaim  them,  to  feel 
altogether  easy  under  the  itlea  that  the  British  trovernment 
might  hear  of  their  conduct,  and  make  it  a  national  concern. 
It  would,  indeed,  they  were  aware,  be  soon  known  that  the 
Ohio  Company's  party  had  been  attacked  and  defeated  bv 
the  Indians  ;  but,  without  some  specific  information.  the\ 
themselves,  although  they  mi'/ht  be  suspected,  could  not  be 
convicted  of  participating  in  the  deed. 

Had  Charles,  like  the  other  prisoners,  been  in  their  custo 
dy,  every  thing-  would  then  have  gone  to  their  satisfaction  : 
since  their  prisoners  they  could  hold  an  indefinite  time,  and 
liberate  only  when  other  national  concerns,  occurred  to  ren 
der  what  they  had  done  of  too  little  importance  to  ocrasior. 
inquiry. 


THK      Wn.DKRNKSS.  71 

It  was  partly  under  the.  influence  of  these  considerations, 
and  partly,  we  would  fondly  hope,  with  a  view  to  save 
Charles's  life,  that  after  the  braakmii  up  of  the  Indian  coun 
cil,  one  of  them  oli'emi  to  Cairasvoono.  a  lars/e  reward  if  he 
should  bring  Charles  a  ii\in^  prisoner  to  thciu  at  the,  fort  of 
Le  lioMif  within  six  inonths  from  that  time. 

To  this  oiler  the  chief  replied  : 

u  Brothel  !  Vv'hat  do  \ou  mean  .'  Do  yon  think  I  will 
Hive  up  my  son's  ri^ht  i'or  a  hire  '  V.  ill  L  let  him  remain 
unavenged  for  the  sake  ot'  presents  .'  >.o.  I  will  pursue 
this  \\  inte  warrior  from  no  such  motive.  I  would  not  move 
my  iinsrer  at.  him,  to  injure  him  i'or  the  paltry  object  of  iriin. 
And.  listen  to  it — had  I  him  new  in  my  power,  all  the  wealth 
ot' your  threat  kinii  would  not  save  him  from  beini/  saeriiiced 
to  the  departed  spirit  of  my  son. 

"  Brother  !  I  would  be  an<iry  with  you  but  for  this  reason 
— I  know  that  the  customs  of  your  country  prevent  you 
from  think  i:i>r  your  oiler  an  insult.  Tin.-,  and  your  iirno- 
(>['  our  customs,  excuse  you.  Bu'.  as  every  Indian 
may  not  make  this  consideration,  that  1  now  do,  L  would 
advise  you  never  asrain  to  oiler  any  of  our  warriors  a  bribe- 
to  act  contrary  to  his  feelinu's.  If  you  do,  he  will  be  apt 
to  turn  upon  you  as  the  bear  turns  upon  those  who  wound 
him. 

"  iiiother!  I  leave  you< — I  pursue  our  released  prisoner, 
but  it  is  to  destroy  him,  for  he  who  killed  my  son  must  not 
walk  abroad  upon  the  earth." 

So  savin:/,  he  left  the  Frenchman  with  a  look  of  liich  dis 
dain,  and  set  oil' on  his  revengeful  errand. 

The  day  after  the  council  was  held,  tin1  French  pro 
ceeded  with  their  prisoners  for  fort  l.e  Bo'tif,  which  was 
situated  on  French  ('reck,  near  where  the  present  \diain-  ot 
\\aierlord  stands.  It  \vas  the  commander  of  tins  fort,  who, 
to  hi>  ollicial  instructions,  and  to  the 
is  uoveniment.  to  prevent  any  I'lntdish 
111!  made  west  o 
ihe  ( 'hiewvs  to  attack  our 


war,  which,  although    il    br»an    disastrously    for   the    British 
arms,  yet    resulted,  under  the  energetic  auspice*  of  the  elder 


72  I  UK     \V  [LDKllN  KSS. 

Pitt,  iii  the  total  expulsion  of  the  French  aushonty  from  this 
extensive  region  of  America,  uiul  in  their  discomfiture  in  the 
East  uiHl  West  Ind:e-  oral  oUier  parls  of  the  w>rld, 

raising1  ilie  power  and  influence  of  the  British  nation  to  the 
hiuhesi  pinnacle  of  strength  and  glory. 

It  was  during  the  disastrous  ])eriod  of  (his  war,  thai  the 
.iiccl  hut  unfortunate  expedition  oi'  \\  addr-rk  to  this 
wilderness,  the  m«.s!  impressively  disastrous  oi'  all  its  events, 
took  place,  and  perhaps,  had  more  the  efTi  cl  of  drawing  the 
attention  of  mankind  towards  these  remote  regions,  and  their 
«avage  inhabitants,  ihan  any  o  'icr  tran^aciioii  recorded  in 
history.  This  noted  expedition,  which  is  still  referred  to 
as  an  epoch  in  tl  rica,  will,  on  ac 

count  of  the  influence  it  had  upon  the  for'ime.-  of  those  per 
sons  whose  adventures  we  have  undertaken  to  relate,  come 
again  under  our  notice  d'j  -iiirse  oi'  this  work,  when, 

we  trust,  ft  \vill  i;e  :;i  mir  power  to  .'jive  tlie  reader  some 
more  circumstantial  deuiils  concernine1  it,  than  he  can  pro 
cure  from  any  public  In  --lory  at  present  extant.  \Vo  may 
hero  observe,  !;•  thai  ;:  i  not  our  ignition  to  d\\pell 

more  minutely  upon  those  matters  that  are  already  known 
to  the  world,  than  wili  he  necessary  to  aii'-rd  a  (dear  and 
satisfactory  view  of  their  connexion  with  the  individuals  in 
whose  ailah's  M  immediately  concerned.  \Ve, 

therefore,  b  those  who  may  wish 

for  more   e  in,  of  a   public  character,  con 

cern;;:^  '•  Braddock1  .  lo  ihe  numerous,  well-written, 
and  copious  hi;  f  that  int;  riod,  \\  hich  the 

world    already  •  .    and    v.'iiic-ii    we    can    assure    the 

reader  an  d  wor 

thy  of  cretiii  as  our 

The   Fivp.ch   -  ..ho,  as   \ve   iiave   seen,  were  hoili 

glad    and   ei  rry   at    iho   escape   of  ('diaries    Addeilv,  finding 

! :!vc  true  Frcnchnu  n 

cast    c  .  at'.d   ilie    next  day  ,-et  out  with    those    pris 

oners  which  rei  Le  i'd-uf,  in  order  to 

have  them  there  secured,  as  soon  as  possible,  from  anv  acci- 
tlent,  whether  of  escape  or  of  Indian  violence.    Ti 
\vere   now   c'liy  seven  in  number,  four  having  died   of  their 
ynunds  ihr   pv  ceding  !:i(.'!>t.      (Jf  those  \\']\f<  survived,  thrf- 


i.TMi  v.ere  slightly  wounded,  among  whom  was  our  acquaint- 
••nce  Peter  .M'F.'i!.  whose  left  arm  had  hem  broken  hy  llio 
troke  of  nu  In<!i;m  hattle-axe  before  lie  submitted  to  be 
'annul.  Thus,  of  those  twenty  irallant  fellows  that  had  so 
lately  crossed  the  Allegheny  mountains,  only  eiirbt  were 
MOW  living  ;  and  but  five,  one  of  whom  was  Charles  Ad- 
Serly,  himself,  had  escaped  Irom  their  savage  foes  without 
.icrsoiud  injury. 

The    French    were   assisted    bv   a    do/c-n    of   Chippeway 

warners.  in  escorting  the   prisoners   to  their  destination,  the 

"mainder  of  the  savages    having   agreed    to   continue   their 

1  xcursion    into    the    \  irginian    settlements,   for   the   sake   of 

idditionnl  plunder  and  scalps. 

V.  hen  the  escort  wiili   the  prisoners  had   proceeded  about 
ive    miles   on  their  way,  t!;e\-  came  to  a  tent  situated   at    the 
a  hi!!,  near  a  small  brook,  at  which  they  halted.      In 
lis  lent  ihere  were  three  or  four  sntiaws,  and   two   French 
men,  one  of  whom  was  lym^  on  a  tolerably  comfortable  bed 
made  of  buffalo  skins  and  some   blankets  spread  upon  dried 
leaves,  which,  as    it  was   now  considerably  advanced   in   the 
I  ill,  were  scattered  in  o-real.  abundance  all  through  the  woods, 
'i'his   man  was  laboring  under  a  liad  wound  from  a   musket, 
1   dl  he  had  received  in  the  »roin,  which  still  remained  there. 
!!i-  appearance,  as  well  as    that    of  his  companion,  immedi- 
;    ely  Miiroested  to  J'eter  .M'Fall    th.it  these  were  the  men  he 
J.  id   overheard    conversing  previous  to  the  attack  of  the    In- 
( '"ins,  one  of  whom    he   kne\v  be  had  Avounded.      lie  beard 
t  .is  man  moan  once  or  twice  from  the  pain  he  endured,  and 
-  heart  smote  him  from  a  consciousness  of  having  been  its 
c  .use. 

lie  went  forward  to  the  patient,  and  taking  him  by  the 
1  'iid,  -'Now,  honey,"  .-aid  he,  '-did  vou  never  see  me 
1  rfore  .'•' 

The  man  looked  at  him,  and  answered  ".No." 
'•  !5y  my  sowl,  then,"  he  continued,  '•  your  eyes  were  not 
si'  ifood  as  mine.      And    it    is    lucky  for   mv  head    they  were 
n    t,  or  else  a.  bullet  mi^ht  now    have  been    Iving    as    siiu^    in 
n  y  brain  as  in  your  kidney,  my  jewel  !" 

The  man  stared  at  him — when,  as  if  struck  with  some  hap- 

p       lde:i.  he   coilt  mned  — 


"  Arrah  now  '  ]  have  ii  n  ill.      Be 

—  "\  ou'll  I  ••  • 

•  h  •!  pin- 

cere,  ami    lie'il   •  oon     -  that  la/e.- 

S!!>.aek    li)!:i  !l!iy,." 

lit-  here  c.illt  d  on  I  to  ti  i'::«'i)ii  we 

have  before  mi'iMoned,  whose   nam 

"  By  my  sow  1,  doctor  !  '   'ohs   for 

von,   you    ever    did    i::    \    ur    life.       *  ' 

^FFaddyen  was  only  here,  he  wouldn't  be  after  asking  the 
second  !iivL'ii!',r  t.>  d  >  i1,  when 

of  nun;;.      jJnt,  ( li-d  .  f  you,  \  on    c,:ii 

:;  Iiair — for  yoi  ny  life   to 

. 

tliis  tiiiK1  :; 

service  in  exiractiii'i  tiu:   \>-M   , 

and    the   FITI:  :  I    the    instruments    he    had 

brought  with    him    iVoni    pinl'iilelp.'i'::, 

plunder,  of   which  ih  tor    tiian  t::;1  In 

dians,   they    were    .soon  I,    and   th^  m    per- 

fonncd. 

When  Peter  <rot  the  bullet  in  Ki.-  hand,  he  exjimined  n 
closely,  and  perceiving  that  it  was  perforated  with  a  sinaii 
hole,  he  commenced  liii'.a'in^  it  into  ih::  air,  and  c  itching  n 
again,  exclaiminw  as  lit:  continued  tin.-  operation  — 

"  Uy  Saint  Columb!  I  have  you  ao-ain,  my  boy !  ]jiu 
:lie  d  :vil  a  hit  of  iiiilv  Kinder  will  e 

/ii^-'v  !i:j i1-:  .-    to   you    •  :  lin,    my  h  ;  in  tin 

moulds  i; • : , 

him    ycsterda\.  ini ! — Bui    \vhen  I 

send   you   scam  !  r  a  i  'renc 

hip,  my  hi  .:    him,   b 

once,  or  tlo:f  I  touch  : 

••  Peier    w.is   lierc    intorruDi  [)lie   to  t!::1 

bullet,  by  one  of  the  Frenchmen  accosting  him  rather  ab 
ruptly,  in  an  unintelligible  mixture!  of  French  and  En.';li>7:, 
lo  rej/eat  which  verbatim,  would  be  as  diflic  ,  .  :  read 


ddress,  in  of  tlic    lano'iiao'e,    pre- 

>  vhcndinir  i1-  :  •  and 

Frenclm 

_ 

••  '• ,'  •:•}•-.    •  i,  my  jewel,  it's 

:        :      !       hke  a   irentleman,  every  incii  ot 

\  in;.       \  :•;•:  ii !    :  •  •  v, ,! !  '    mother    who    bore 

tient   at   IK  i:iir  '.'•  din-cl  an- 

•  \v<  :  '  unintelliirible,  and  coni- 

.•ond    P   '  •  |ve!ie;"-i< •-,,    '•.•/hicli   occasioned 

liini  ti)  :'::.:':'i;  !— 


urine,  Til  be  ha  iiii'.'d.'' 

'  Z'-'tf.    <:{'    Which 

.  era]   times,  \vitli 
sounds,    :!:,;:    ivier 

i       _,  I     p<   .V:V  '    Iff      plirp   !1'1     (>!' 

1    ,.• 

' 

I  i,  !er  either 

i    ••' .  rst,  lo  understand    him. 

•;   nov\    loo    plain  i'or  misconeep- 

, 

'•         V,          ':  .          .1',          YOU"! 

: '  i  \  •  i .  i  1 1 ; :  _;'   a    man 

".'ii  liie  '  iltrou^h  llie  head  .' 

. 

!roo  de    !'  .claimed   tlie,    l'"ri  nc'iman 

i'    :   "oni   lime  ;!. 

led,    \viliu  is  exclamai .on — 

• '    \ '.  i '  i  d ; ' '  •  i '  1   i   !  •  •  1 1  \  i ! ; ;    !  i  .       1 1 1  u  o      .  , : .  i  1  i  i  e  d  <  1 1  •  i  u  r 

him    as    ;iale  as  a  leek'. — ;md    f-.iih    and    troili, 
tossed  up  ill!1  bullet,    and    e-  • . 

e    s  \vali 
:  made 

]i     -    lull;''   i:»n  '_;:•:,  , !  !|eis,    1 !! ;  1 1    1  i  1 1 

'!  h;    Vv'unid  'd  :  !  Tsiandui"'   'lie    naMii'e  <ii    ihc 

d   •(•::•--•::  ni  !•.•••  v/'-en  hi-  e  •  .  u:  m  and    i;"i"r,  ey  plained  i<> 

I 1  •    Ini' I.K-;'   the    cireum.-;auc"-:  ol    I  he    case,    a.ckiiM\\  led^iny- 


?•'>  nil 

himself  ami  Ins  companion  to  IK:  tin-  a^anvssors,  noi  oni\ 
on  account  of  acting,  as  tlicv  were  then  doinir.  in  ihe  char 
acter  oi'  spies,  but  on  account  of  having  shot  lirs!  at  i'eter. 

I'eter,  lindino-  tliai  the  patient  liad  exculpated  liim,  seizi  d 
his  hand,  and  cried  out — "Arrah!  loni;' life  to  von.  for  your 
self  is  a  gentleman;  and]  wouldn't  send  my  hull  am  where' 
Inn  into  your  kidnev.  my  honey,  when:  il  lav  snnir  amonii 
tlie  fat.  like  a  little  pi<<;  in  a  shutter,  and  the  devil  a  hit  oi 
harm  I  knew  it  would  do  yon.  my  jewel.  Och  !  the  hies;-- 
inn'  oi'  Saint  Bridget  lie  on  yon.  1'or  YOU  liave  saved  poor 
Peter's  neck  from  the  twist,  master — and  ihe  doctor  will 
cure  you  in  a  week,  as  sound  as  a  church  hell — Only  no\\ 
take  a  little  of  the  stingo  to  warm  your  stomach,  dear. — 
Sure,  don't  I  know  from  experience,  that  whiskey " 

Here  the  surgeon  interrupted  IVter,  desirinsr  him  to  lea\e 
the  patient,  for  that  euieincss  and  repose  were  absolutely 
neresr-arv  to  him  after  the  operation  lie  had  undergone. 
••  As  to  whiskey  or  br.mdv,  or  any  such  liquor,  it  would,'1 
he  ohserved.  "he  extrenr.lv  detrimental  to  him  in  his 


ijjin.vi,  observing,  "Sure,  doctor,  you  know 
better  than  I  do.  But,  by  my  sowl,  I  always  found  a  drop 
of  the  cratur  good  for  myself, — and  sure,  YOU  know,  1 
couldn't  think  i;  bad  for  another." 

The  performing  of  this  operation,  and  the  enjoying  of  a. 
plentiful  repast,  consisting  of  venison,  wild  fowl.  Indian- 
corn  bread,  biscuit,  and  various  other  luxuries  supplied  from 
the  French  store's,  and  which  the.  squaws,  assisted  bv  one 
of  the  Frenchmen,  who  was  fond  of  good  eating,  had  se! 
about  preparing  for  the  party  immediatelv  on  its  arri\ah 
consumed  so  much  of  the  day,  that  it  was  proposed  to  pneh 
a  few  more  tents,  and  spend  the  remainder  of  ii  in  this 
place  in  jollity  and  enjovmenl.  This  agreeable  proposal 
was  relished  bv  the  whole  company;  and  ihe  French,  du 
ring  the  evening,  got  into  such  good  humor  with  the  pris 
oners,  that  the\  permitled  them  to  join  in  their  revels, 
ordering  the  Indians,  however,  to  keep  a  good  look  out.  les: 
anv  oi  them  should  escape.  As  to  the  surgeon,  whose 
manners,  education,  and  good  sense,  indicated  the:  uvn- 
tleman,  he  had,  immediately  after  the  operation,  obtained. 


77 

ou  his  parole  of  not  attempting  to  leave  them  until  they 
should  arrive  at  l,e  Bauif,  the  indulgence  of  being  master  of 
his  own  motions,  with  the  command  of  a  rifle,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  hunting  and  fowling. 

There  are,  perhaps,  no  people  in  the  world  better  quali- 
ued  to  enjoy  tlie  passing  moment  than  the  French.  They 
have  the  happy  faculty  of  dismissing  care  whenever  it  be 
comes  troublesome  to  their  feeling.*,  or  unnecessary  for  their 
purposes;  and  on  this  evening  they  exerted  that  faculty  in  a 
most  commanding  and  masterly  manner.  We  have  seen 
that  they  had  brought  themselves  into  a  predicament  ealcu- 
•  a'ed  to  make  the  most  serious  impression  on  their  minds, 
and  that  they  were  fully  aware  of  the  circumstance;  and 
yet,  when  they  had  got  their  bodies  replenished  with  a  rea 
sonable  portion  of  substantial  fare,  and  had  warmed  their 
minds  with  a  sufficient  dose  of  brandy  punch,  or,  as  on  this 
occasion  they  were  not  over  nice,  with  whiskey  grog,  they 
bade  for  the  time  adieu  to  all  uneasy  reflections,  and  abso 
lutely  set  the  power  of  fortune  at  de.iianca,  except  the  power 
she  had  of  making  them  happv  for  the  present, 

Kaudoai  catches,  songs,  jests,  glees,  dances,  and  loud 
.aughing,  were  all  that  they  now  either  could  or  would 
think  of.  In  vain  did  the  affairs  of  to-morrow  venture  to 
intrude.  Out  they  were  hurled — there  was  no  room  for 
ihein  in  bosoms  where  hilarity,  mirth,  and  pleasure  pos 
sessed  every  comer  that  could  be  spared. 

If  the  French  are  noted  for  unthinking  frivolity,  the  Irish 
are  no  less  .so  for  a  fervency  of  feeling,  by  which  they  are 
enabled  to  suppress  the  sug^estiou-s  of  care,  as  effectually  as 
he  trench  can  dismiss  them.  ilouiv,  when  opportunity 
"empts,  they  arc  ever  ready  to  yield  with  their  whole  heart 
and  soul  to  the  ti:ll  tide  of  enjoyment,  and  swim  away  on  its 
stream,  regardless  of  consequences.  On  this  occasion,  there- 
iore,  there  was  none  who  entered  with  more  spirit  into  the 
humors  of  the  ovo-iino;,  than  Peter  M'Fail. 

On  a  green  level  sward,  by  the  edgy  of  the  rivulet,  the 
fiarty  formed  a  circle;  but  it  was  fir  a  verv  different  pur 
pose  from  that  funned  the  preceding  day  by  the  Indian 
•omicil.  Here  were  no  life  and  death  matter?  to  he  dis- 
•ussed — here  were  no  serious  and  vehement  culls  for  the 
8 


78  THE 

d^struction  and  burning  of  a  fellow-be;!!;; — no  loud  and  sor 
rowful  manifestations  of  ofricf — no  fierce  and  rei-'ented  mi 
precations  of  vengeance  upon  mi  unfortunate  captive.  Grief, 
vengeance,  and  every  u'her  uncomfortable  feelim:,  were  ban 
ished  as  unwelcome  guests  :  while  ^ood  humor,  sprightiinrSb, 
cordiality,  and  joy,  were  invited  to  he  on  ,-ent,  and  inspire 
the  revels  of  the  evening  by  the  merry  strains  i>i'  a  French- 
man's  flute,  and  the  jolly  sounds  of  an  Irishman's  voice  : 
for,  in  the  intervals  of  the;  flute  player's  performance,  Peter, 
with  great  spirit,  industriously  exerted  cimseif,  to  n. 
the  company  from  vvanMng  music,  by  sinking  the  merr\ 
lilts  of  his  native  country. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  supple-heeled  sport,  the  In 
dians  had  entertained  the  party  by  exhibiting  ; 
dances  ot  their  nation.  The  war  dance,  the  iimitin;;'  d:-nce, 
the  courtship  dance,  the  marriage  dance,  and  the  birth  dance. 
had  each  its  characteristic  -features  and  manu.-uvres — some 
of  which  were,  to  the  eves  of  the  Europeans,  so  groti  ?que, 
wild,  and  ludicron?,  tint  they  M'ere  kcj.it  in.  an  almost  con 
tinued  roar  of  laughter. 

Peter  was  particularly  tickkd  with  the  romping  and  ca 
pering  of  the  squaw?,  who  were  tolerably  handsome  women, 
and  had  been  nothing  loth  to  exhibit  their  personal  attrac 
tions  in  the  various  attitudes  of  their  native  dances. 

"  By  the  holy  Patrick!   but  it's   yourseh  (->   can   do   it   in 
style,  my  girls!1'  would  Peter  every  now  and  then  exclv.im. 
while  he  snapped  his  finders  and  beat  tiir.e  with  his  feet,  in 
the  high  glee  of  admiration  at  their  extraordinary  and  laugh 
able  performance. 

His  fancy  was  particularly  taken  with  the  gracefulness 
and  agility  of  the  youngest  of  the  squaws,  who  made  really 
an  interesting  figure  among  the  groupe  ;  and  at  every  re 
markable  bound  she  gave,  smack  went  Peter's  fiegi-rs  in  tin: 
air,  dash  went  his  heel  upon  the  ground,  and  loud  rose  his 
obstreperous  cheers  of  applause. 

"  'Well  done,  by  the  powers  of  Barnaby  !     Och  !  kape  it 
up,  you  -swate  little  soul,  ye!      There  goes  mettle  fur  vox.  '.'' 
He  thus  kept  vociferating,  while  the  company  kept  laugh 
ing,  almost  as   much  at,  his  extravagancies,  as  at  the  smgu 
laritips  of   thr  dancer.-.      At  length  his  herls  itched  SM  muHi 


J.HL     UlLl>Kf!M33.  ?y 

10  t.-t'ar  a   part   in   the   boisterous    amusement,  that  he  could 

keep  his  seat  no  longer,  but  springing  up,  and  with  his  sound 

nil,  hooking   in  with   the   squaw  who   had   pleased    him   so 

iiudi,  he   leaped,  and   bounded,  und  capered  among  the   In- 

i.ms  \>,  lib  all  his  might,  imitating  as  \vell  as  he  could,  their 

vestures  :.nd  behavior,  to  the  great  admiration  and  delight  of 

When  the  Indians  and  Peter  had' finished,  the  French  felt 

uidincd  to  succeed  them  in  the  exhilarating  pastime;   but  as 

tneir  musician  was  desirous  to  join  them,  and  it  was  impos- 

io;-  him    to  both  dance  and  play  liie  flute   at  the   same 

t.me,  it  was  determined   that  Peter  should  either  whistle  or 

•  i  them,  as  he  best   could,  to   keep  them  in  time.      But 

i   •  knew  none  of  the   airs    to  which,  they  were  accustomed, 

•ral  ineffectual  attempts  to  learn  some  of  them, 

t.Me  Ffndi  wen.'  at  last  obliged  to  accommodate  themselves 

t  .    those   they   did    know.      Tm>v   accordingly   set  oil'  with 

'•  'Sancv  Duwson,'1  to  which  they  tripped  airily  and  nimbly 

n  measured  movements,  with  great   art,  sprighlliness, 

:.    d  vivad'y.      Now.  'for  every  ten   or   lifloen   minutes  they 

c  :  mgrd    their   mood,  and  Peter  had  as  ofien   to   change   hU- 

n    i".     t!ie    light    corant.    :|.e    gay    cotillion,    the   merry  rigga- 

d    on.  the  measured    wall?.,  and    the    sprightly  jig.  succeeded 

[d  e  ich  odier,  and  wer     rattled  oil'  to  tip1  successive  tunes  of 

the  ln-h  Washerwoman,  the  Soldier's  Jov,  the  VVdiite  Cock- 

;K     .    Patrick's    Da\  ,   and    Morgan    Hauler.      Through    these. 

v;  'ions  mea-ure>  the  nimble-toed  Frenchmen  tript  gaily  and 

lii  gly  without    mudi    noise,  so   that  their  easy  hut  busy 

e.\    rtions  were,  in  comparison  to  tiie  violent  rompuig,  jump- 

m.    and  tearing   which    had    just    preceded    them,  what   the 

img  of  a  gentle   river  is.  to   the   roaring   billows  of  the 


somewhat  wearied  with  this  species 
a;    down   to  an  evening  repast,  rudely 
•rved    up    ir>    doubt,  but    plentiful    and    substantial. 
!    -  \:  •' ~  si.cci'eih  a  :i  ii  ging  oi    s  unc  pn'ial  snugs,  of 

1  cli,  onlv  the  two  loliowmg  have  come  into  our  posses- 
Tl::'  lir-t  was  MMr,r  b\  one  ol  the  Frenchmen,  and  the 
i  T  b\  our  iric'tid  fjeter.  Kach  sung  in  his  own  language. 
1  die  Frenchman's  performance  we  of  course  can  only  give 
t-  .mslation. 


•<•<>£    vra.OLVi.N2ss, 


"/.•mail 


Let  phi;1  •                      ,  -;;IP^  r.5.  thp v  r.-.ll 

T!it>  ni  he  sources  -.fblis.5 

Tiio  trne  loner  of  knowledge  and  pic:;is;ire  i-: 

To  lie  toil!    . 

\  ii  'I'nl    _r;iv, 

To  on'iH:!:''  ,  sur  sorrows  to  cheat^ 

Ah !   think  o:  '        ->!'iv. 

"VVliMi  'tis  \varzn  swi  (.t 

friends, 

Kach  evil 
If  o!\!  v  tliis  cord 

Wliich  to  each  es  : — 

Wh:',!  in  "•  (Jisn, 

If  thij  he;. i"  sticks  close  to  riv  side 

For  in  ii!".  ;.:•  in  war,  tie  is  won_, 

\Vhcii  the  foe  ia  ;  •     and  boldly  d 

Then,  hw.r  -  ;>f  truo  wi.uiom  a<-;<i  ini-tii, 

For  mirth  and  true  wisdom  are  always  roii.bined, 
The  wisrst  :>t' tliinf.-  we  C;L:I  do  upon  earth, 

Is  like  truc-hfaru   souls  to  ::ivo  cure  to  the  wind. 
Then  driak  from  this  bottle,  !h.--  dr;r;;;ht  nt'ih'li^lit. 

That  can  banish  --ru-ii  i!:)ra;--;ii!!j  care  from  the  sou!;, 
Hound  and  round  let  us  drink,  and  experiencf'  to-night. 

The  best  cordial  of  lift;  is  a  free-flowing  bowl  ' 


Pcfcr  M* Fall's  Song.. 


In  Ireland   so  frisky, 

With  girls  and  with  whiskey, 
How  happy  was  I  when  a  strapping  young  lad  . 

Every  market  and  fair, 

To  bo  sure  1  was  ['.ere  , 
With  mi'  breeches  and  boots,  like  a  gentleman  clad. 

And  then  as  to  monev, 

Och  !    sure  it  was  funny, 
To  hear  the  dear  shillings  and  sixpences  clink, 

And  the  lasses  .so  sweet, 

Arrnh,  faith  '    when  we'd  meet, 
By  the  powers  I  could  bring  them  along  with  a  wink 


rui:    WII.DKRM.SN.  SI 

: '  A  nali.  i::  iniluui  !    he  cjmej.ei 
And  bi  in.;-  iis  th;it  liquor  '  " 

I    v.  ouli!  <:r\ — ;tic.l  heM   :,kip  ilk.-  ;'   <•  it   in   the  titif-t'; 
Si)    SHIILl'i  V    thus    li.v'ii    Up. 

The  pui.cli   1   SDOII  inix'd  up. 
Then  handed  it  round  so  genteel*  mid  neat, 
Tii, it  the  piris;,  tin'  dear  cieaturf»i, 
With  <;\\ .  i  ;  smiliny  I'l'.iiin  ITS, 
• -'  punch  ;:i  a  tout  \v:is  :'n  elegant,  neat'" 

Och  !    the  punch   \v;is  »i  chcci  v, 

'I'uat  soon  \\  c  ti'"t  merry, 
And  tl.r  las:    I  lov'd  hcst  sal  so  snug  in  ins  arms; 

Th;<!   1   courted  uin!  kiss'd  hoi  , 

An-!  tea/'d  her  and  hless'd  her, 
1  ill  ';he  lilnsh'u  iii-.e  the  iniiiiii  \\ith  :i   million  <il'  chaMiit. 

1   :•  .   •  :  i     ii  in  in  •  : 

Hiii  iu  cut  s'hon  in  v  • 
I  i.--   l.fsl   tiling  — oi'ii  !   i  iiiiscit -ncc.  i   tell   von   tin'  tiutli, 

( !n  tin1  !!'i'!s  tu  lie  \r\  iti'4. 

'i'u  !ii;:  lie  I  h'-in  cii|ii|)!  \  iii':, 
I '-.'I   jii'.:   of 'food    Clinch  -iii'.i   ;i   licit  --ir:ipj)iii;r   vonlli. 

The  iifN'i.  inoniinjr  l!in  party  ro-coniinoiired  their  |ounu'iy 

in  fort  \ ,c'  HdMit',  !c;i\ii)Lr  tlio  \\-;i;i!i(l'j(i  Frenchman,  who  w;is 

to  cniiurc  rcinovulj  iihdcr  the  care  ol'otic  of  his  coun- 

lr\'i)H'ii   ;ui(l    two   sq!i;t\\'s.      They  arrived  i.t  the  tort  on   the 

day  o!'  tlieii    journey,  without  nieetino;  witli  ;inv  ae.ci- 

<!'  nt  worth  reeoi  (liii^.      Here  the  escort   of  Indians  received 

|i     -cuts  tor  ill.--  sei'vitros  t'e-v  )>.ad    performed,  and  were  dis- 

n    ssfd. 

As  for  the  |)ris:)iii;!-s.  ihev  were  all  sliu-tly  confined  within 
i'  •  rainj)iirts.  except  the  surgeon,  v/ho  was  occasionally  ]>er- 
iii  tied  on  his  parole,  to  recreate  himself  in  the  adjacent 
itry.  ():;;•  friend  .i'eter  had  il  in  his  power,  very  shortly 
hi-  arrival,  o;;  acconni  o!  his  undorstandinjr  a  little 
!  :i:ch,  to  have  e\:  iia.n'."".!  his  situation  D|'  a  Prisoner,  for 
ll'i •  t  of  a  s.'-rvaiit  to  one  of  liie  ofiicers — li;:t  he  promptly  re 
in  c(i  :t.  from  ;;  molive  whimsical  enough,  perhaps,  hut  cer- 
la  dy  hon!:ra!)!e  to  his  lidelily — which  was  his  resolution 
MI  ;  to  serve  any  one  in  a  menial  canai-ity  except  Charles 
A.  !erl\',  t«.  he  airain  v- i;h  whom,  soon  hecaine  the  leading 


8.S 
& 

a  prisoner,  and  coi  er  ilic  contiol  of  certain 
regulations  whirl:  i  •  ;  id  not  relish;  and  \\hal  was  \\orse 
he  \va  ter,  \\  ho  mi^ht  lie  .so 
circumstanced  c  his  services,  lie.  there 
fore,  jolly,  pny.  uiui  ilun--  s  Jiis  disposition  \v:ts',  h:iu 
suilii-icnt  r'-1-!?!;!!  Cor  leclinQ-  nncusy  in  his  cnptivily. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


ALTHOUGH  Tonnaleuka  ;iiid  !iis  iirotc<re  liad  rotired  in  a 
slow  and  unhurried  iiip.nnci1.  \\hile  in  view  ol'  the  Indians, 
yet  they  were  no  sooner  removed  from  their  ohservatien, 
th'in  the  former,  who  was  nv/nro  of  Carnuvoona'a  implac 
able  and  rancorous  temper,  tisouirlit  projier  to  ]:;:.^ten  on 
wards  with  the  utmo;-'  speed.  lie  conceived  it  prudent  a!.=o 
to  change  his  direction,  so  that  if  the  unappeasable  savaor 
should  pursue  them,  he  miL'hi  not  he  (MI  ilie  proper  track. 
He  accordingly  turned  towards  the  uorthwaid,  in  which, 
course  he  kept  for  about  two  miles,  then  turnino-  airain  to 
wards  the  east,  in  about  two  hour?  -after  he  left  the  savages 
he  reached  the  Alleo'-,;  '.:y  river  nearly  six  miles  above  tht 
Shanapin's  town.  Tiere  they  entered  the  \visi\vam  of  ai: 
Indian,  who  receivcil  them  with  great  reverence  and  respect. 
Tonnaleuka  (;esired  this  man  to  prepare  some  refreshments. 


TJIE     WILDERNESS. 

and  while  this  was  doing,  he  beckoned  to  Charles,  to  v.'hom 
he  had  not  yet,  since  their  leaving  the  Ohippeways,  spoken 
a  single  "\vord,  to  follow  him.  lie  h •;'  the  way  into  a  nar 
row  di!  e  from  the  wigwam,  and  to 
surprise  addn  L  in  English. 

••  My  son,"  sail!  he,  "let  us  here  worship  the  Great 
Father  of  all,  and  thank  him  for  ihy  deliverance." 

They  fell  on  their  knees,  and  the  prophet  lifting  his  eye?., 
and  spreading  his  hands  to  heaven,  addressed  the  Supreme 
Origin  of -ill  things  as  follows: 

'•  Almiijiitv  Spin!  !  We  kneel  here  to  adore  thee,  and  to 
thank  thee.  V,  e  adore  thee  for  thy  incomprehensible  great 
ness,  for  thy  iilimiiahh1  pov\vr,  and  thy  everlasting  purity, 
V,  e  thank  thee  for  thy  inexhaustible  goodness,  thy  readiness 
to  forgive,  and  thy  forbearance  to  punish.  Thy  greatness 
fills  u-;  with  wonder,  thy  power  with  awe,  and  thy  purity 
wnh  admiration.  Thy  iroudness  inspires  our  love,  thy  rea- 
dii.tss  to  forgive,  our  hope,  and  thy  forbearance  to  punish, 
I'aliuuie. 

•'Aliniirhty  and  good  Spirit!  Yv  e  humbly  adore  thee 
and  thank  thee,  at  this  time  in  particular,  for  the  maniU-sia- 
ti"ii  of  thy  goodness  in  delivering  this  yo;;th,  as  ihou  hast 
this  day  done,  from  the  hands  of  an  unpityinir  and  cruel 
enemy,  \\lio  had  determined  on  his  destruction.  Ho  is  on 
his  knee-*  and  1  am  on  mine.  Look  at  us,  merciful  Spirit! 
look  mio  our  hearis — thon  wilt  see  them  truly  thankful  for 
this  .-imial  instance  of  thy  protecting  ami  kind  providence. 
lie  thanks  thee  because  thon  hast,  in  this  manner,  assured 
him  of  thy  friendship,  and  !  than!;  thee,  both  because  thou 
hasi  saved  him,  and  because,  in  doing  it,  thou  hast  ma.de  me 
thy  humble  instrument. 

"Almighty  Spirit  '.  Hear  us  yet  !  \\  e  entreat  thee  to  be- 
always  our  protector  from  evil,  onr  deliverer  from  distress, 
and  our  director  and  conductor  through  all  the  snares  and 
intricacies  of  life,  so  that  we  may  act  pleasingly  io  thee,  and 
be  worthy  to  I  e  i  :  ih  d  ihv  children,  and  deserving  of  thy 
favor. 

"Aliniirhty  Spirit  '  we  have  done,  and  we  hope  thoi: 
Inst  been  graciously  attentive  to  what  we  have  said, — 
Ann  n." 


\Yheii  they  arose,  ('harles  caught  the  prophet  by  ihc 
hand. 

"  Father."  said  lie,  "  permit  me  to  a^k  who  tliou  nrt,  whom 
that  holy  (Joil  we  have  m -MI  worshipping,  has  made  the 
menus  of  rescuin?  mo  from  n  cruel  d.n;uh  :"' 

•'  My  son,''  replied  Tonmdeuka,  "1  am  a  man  like  thy 
self.  I  have,  home  trial?,  perhaps  more  severe  than  thou 
hast,  and  vet  survived  them  ;  i\,r  our  (.-Iron!  Father  was  good 
K'  me.  lie  has  sustained  me,  •uul  thanks  he  to  his  jrood- 
!;c  lias  not  left  me  \\ithonl  come  comfort  in  the  world. 
In  return  for  his  mercie  ,  I  wish  to  serve  him  in  that  way. 
which  of  all  others  i*  I'M"  mosl  ple-ising  to  h;m.  the  doing 
oood  to  hi?  creature'1. 

"  My  brothers,  the  Indian,-.,  wai:e  often  hloody  and  cruel 
v/nrs  ni!':iin.st  each  other,  a :id,  a--  1  know,  thai  the  Great 
Father  is  always  displeased  nt  any  enieliies  inflicted  upon 
his  children,  1  think  i!  mv  dutv.  und  I  make  it  my  hn^ ine>s, 
r.'i  ."•(>  from  trihe  to  tribe,  endeavoring  to  reconcile  them  when 
llicj  quarrel,  or  if  l!:'!y  \ri!'  !  destroy  each  other, 

fryir.ii  nil  in  mv  power   (-.)  mi'  ;r  unnatural  f.-roeity, 

and  In  so  1'tea  and  res  .  or  when 

I  cannot  succeed  in   thi*.  to  di:  them,  if  possible,  in 

the  execution  of  then 

"I  ma.v  have  oiii^r  cares  ;::\d  employments  on  hand. 
15:!t.  mv  son,  !  wish  yon  to  innuire  n'-  furiher  conceining 
me.  Tonnalenka  cai!:;o{  no'.v  teli  ;di  lie  knows  to  the 
world,  and  I  should  not.  wish  inquiries  to  he  made,  that 
I  must  rei'tiso  to  answer. 

"  Mv  son  new  in  a  ir  from  the 

Liocs    of   your   ncopie,   without    friends   or  resources. 

Something  n.u  :  our  common  lather 

has  thro\vn  you  upon   my  care,  1   shall  try  !o  do  something. 

Ma}'  1  ask  what  would  best  suit  yon  lo  be  done  '" 

Charles  now  plated  to  him  the  name  and  residence  of  his 
father,  and  rrave  him  a  e">:ici.-e  account  of  the  expedition 
which  he  had  commanded,  and  which  had  ended  so  disL?- 
Irouslv.  lie  concluded  bv  o\;jer vinir.  tint  ho  nov 
nothing  left  (or  l;im  but  to  mr-ke  his  way  back  to  Pliihidel- 
|ih';a  as  speedily  as  lie  could. 

:!  \Ivson,"  'said    »he    Propiiet.   -'von    < 


THE    Wl'LBERNEPS, 


rn  to  your  friends  is  the  most  prudent  thing  you  can  do. 
But  the  journey  i-;  long  ;  and  considering  the  state  of  the 
country.  to  a  single  individual,  especially  u  white  man,  bred 
i;p  in  cities,  it  must  be  impracticable.  You  \vill  find  no 
provisions  on  the  vay,  and  there  i.s  scarcely  a  path  to  guide 
you,  lor  more  than  two  hundred  miles.  It  will  not  he  easy 
to  oveiTOine  these  difficulties.  But  1  shall  try  to  assist  you, 
and,  pei  haps,  it  may  he  done.  In  this  country  you  are  not 
sue.  I  acknowledge  it,  my  son.  My  brothers  of  the  dif 
ferent  tribes  will  distiust  you,  for  they  have  had  reason  to 
both  distrust  and  dibiike  white  people.  But  from  Carra- 
wcona  your  greatest  perils  will  arise.  Beware  of  him,  for 
1  know  he  is  implacable,  and  will  destroy  you  if  he  can. 

'•  My  son,  until  we  can  prepare  matters  for  your  return  to 
tin.-  east,  I  will  tell  you  where  to  reside,  and  where  1  hope 
Carrawoona  will  not  find  you.  About  fiftein  miles  from 
us,  on  the  bank  of  the  Me.nonnaliela,  lives  the  only  man  of 
your  nation  in  this  country.  II  is  name  is  Fra/ier.  He  i.s 
my  friend,  lie  will  entertain  you  till  1  meet  you  there. 
which  will  not  be  many  days.  1  would  go  with  you  now, 
but  I  must  watch  the  motions  of  the  Chippeways,  and  espe 
cially  of  Carrawoona,  that  1  may  frustrate,  if  possible,  any 
atieii.pt  against  you. 

"  My  son,  we  will  now  partake  of  the  refreshments  pre 
pared  for  us  in  this  wigwam.  Its  owner  will  supply  you 
will1,  arms  for  your  protection,  for  he  is  my  friend  ;  but  as 
the  day  is  now  advanced,  you  had  better  lodge  with  him  to 
night.  In  the  morning  you  will  proceed  to  the  house  of 
my  white  brother,  Frazier,  where  you  will  remain  till  I 
see  you." 

They  accordingly  partook  together  of  a  tolerably  com 
fortable  repast  of  some  wild  fowl,  and  a  preparation  of 
Indian  corn,  called  hom'my,  after  which  Tonnalueka  depait- 
ed,  havm<r  first  inven  Charles  particular  directions  how  to 
lint!  the  u  ay  to  (i  illicit  Fra/ier':5  residence,  ll  is  as  need 
le.-  s  to  repeat  the  expressions  of  gratitude  poured  out  by 
Charles  to  his  deliverer,  when  they  separated,  as  to  de- 
sciibothe  profound  feeiinu'  of  pious  awe  and  thankfulness  to 
the  Deiiy  with  \\hich,  when  left  to  his  own  reflections,  he 
felt  his  mind  impressed.  The  reader  who  knows  the  cir- 


cumstanees  we-;  have  detailed,  \vill  givti  him  credit  tor  boili, 
as  readily,  and  to  .is  i^real  an  extent,  as  if  they  were  pointed 
with  .-ill  UK:  accuracy  and  force  thai  the  culo.'n.:;'  uf  language 
could  'jive  them. 

There  is  no  fecim^  whatever  so  conducive  to  sound  re- 
a?  the  imprc-sioii  of  beui;f  in  tiie  fa  or  and  under  ll):1 
piotectjoa  of  a  supreme  providence.  Tiie  wonderful  deliv 
erance  which  Charles  had  obtained  from  an  M \vful  and  ap 
parently  inevitable  faie,  naturally  produced  upon  his  mind 
tins  e1  en;iv;  such  aii  impression  ;  and  with  feelings  of  a 
isiosi  comfortable,  ahhou^n  sidi  inurn  c  ••cription — 

hiich  feeli!!!jo  as  the  manii":'  who,  al'ter  the  extinction  of  ali 
hope,  has  been  just  rt^eued  iroiii  the  power  of  '.he  rnum^ 
main,  experiences  on  ia\  in^  'nis  exhausted  frame  upon  the 
kindly-spread  couch  oi  hume  hospitable  cotla<j;(ir — he  laid 
himself  down  upon  the  bed  of  dry  leaves  and  biitfalo  skins 
prepared  fur  him  in  one  corner  ot  the  wigwam  by  its  friend 
ly  owner,  and  enjoyed  a  .sound  and  ;-elreshin<.>;  sieep.  \vhicti 
.cd  I'iii  ilu;  morniiiu'. 

le  arose,  h;s  iVieiidly  host  supplied  hiiii  with  a 
•Tun  and  a  war-axe;  and  with  the  former  upon  his  should*1"-, 
and  the  latter,  together  with  some  ammunition  and  'provisions 
l^irl  to  .  he  s,  v  forward  mi  iiis  joiuney  to  (-Jilbert 

Frazier's.  'i'hc  reader  IP  iy  saul"  at  the  car;>  v.-nh  which  a 
you n^  i'eilow  like  him  took  to  equip  himself  for  so  short  a 
ramble  as  fifteen  miles;  an  excursion  which  a  smart  youiur 
?;ian  ol  his  age  v\oiiid  in  our  day  think  no  hardship  to  per 
form  in  tuo  or  ,  •  ha\e.  on  care 
ful  inquiry,  saii-iaclonly  ascertained  that  ihe  yoriuir  men  in 
"  1'raddock's  'j'iines''  \vere  in  all  respects  as  co'.:ra<;eous, 
spirited,  and  active,  as  they  are  even  m  ours,  and  that 
Charles  Adderlv  was  one  of  the  mosi  emiii'Mit  of  them  in 
in  all  these  particulars;  ye;  he  expected  and  found  the  per 
forming  of  ih.u  same  journey  of  fifteen  miles  in  about  seven 
hour.*,  to  be  no  despicable  task.  Hut  it  was  the  difficulty  of 
the  road,  and  not  the  incapacity  o!  the  man.  that  made  it  so; 
and  I  can  assure  any  of  our  modern  heroes,  who  may  imag 
ine  themselves  lit  to  make  as  <jood  a  fijruri-;  in  a  novel  as 
Charles  Adderly,  that  they  would  have  considered  the  jour 
ney  of  which  we  are  speaking  as  difficult,  and  found  it  as 
tedious  as  he  did 


.  87 

T"  have  a  proprT  ](i.  .  ,.t    |ijg   Mi'i-'t'mi.  <!'H!  what    lie    lnd( 
'1.1  encounter,  let  any  reason:' Me  reader  lav  down   th;--'   I 
tor  :L  moment,  and  lii>ure  In  himself  ;i  yonnt>-  i.ii.-m  o!  -ociable 
:'-,  accustomed  dm:: .•:  all   hte   pas;  life,  to  the  animation 
.iui   refinement  of'  ciu'  • .  <•  ,  and   churches,   '•>  paved 

:oads,  flagged' pathways,  duelled  walks,  no\v  di  opprd. 

\   one    of   fortin  d;s,  in;.>  the    midsi   of  a 

Mi'haro\;s    :\tid    p.i;i,:ess  \,  .  ;;  close  grown   forest   of 

lieavy  ;i;!ii'er  uf  aii  ei  r:s — «<ak.  hii'^ory,  inapie,  cho?snut, 
nut,  hircii.  '.io<>'woo.'!,  pop;  ir,  *.Vt\  die., — tin-  ^inali  :- paces 
between  \viuc;i  ^cie  fnnipi.  U:Iy  chokud  v;p  i>y  a  iiiiviifiant. 
trou'ili  ol  underwood,  wild  irra^:e,->  of  innumerable  desc.rip- 
iions,  not  to  mention  Hu1  tn;i,ks  o;  Inrge  trci-s  that  irui  lalii  \\ 
i. 'oin  liu'  decrepitude  of  a«e,  or  were  overthrown  by  t!;.'  tur'v 

IDS,  and  \vhicii  were  perpetually  presentin 
i c  obsti'uctions  to  she  proo'resj  of  the  traveller.  Ami  tiiiH 
!  o.  .n  an  extremely  i'.iliy  country.  iutei>':r!e-'i  l>v  deep  ra- 
vines,  elejis,  ;iiul  (i'liis'h'.s  ^  :th  nit  number  or  regularity,  and 
t  it  ol  si)Mie  oi  \v!ii»:h  i;  was  impossible  lor  a  stranger  t<.< 
<  veii'a!ii_U'  liiiiiself  wilhont  im-redible  labor  ;aid  dextei'ity. 

JMICJI  \VH<  tiie  coiinlr',  ihi'ii'.i^ii  wiiicii  L'haries  Adderly,  to 
'.'.  horn  any  sav;.oe  path  that  miyhl  be  in  it  was  toi.iliy  un- 
k  iuwn.  uinlertool;.  in  tue  year  l'?f)'i,  without  iiniiie  or  com- 
|  mion,  to  traver.- r1.  for  a  short  distance  indeed,  but  over 
^;>»u!!il  so  difficult,  and  amidst  impediments  so  intricate,  that 
r  would  l)o  easier  now  to  traverse  tin,-  same  space  in  tuo 
h  mis  than  it  was  tm-n  in  sev<  n. 

The    directions,    howcvf-r,    winch    C'harles    had    received 
h  TII    tiie    prophet,  ucre    plain,  a;ii    he    set    forward   i'ea, 
n    tiling,  aiiiiouuii    it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever   been   ;:i- 
u  .i'dlier    alone    amidst    ilr.:    wood-^.      I'ut    tins    very  circuin 
s'  ince,    instead    of    reivierinir    IMS    c.viir.-i'U!    disairrcv1; 
ll     '    '/    i  ver    i1    a    peculiar    charm    of    novelty    and    romance, 
\\   lich,  !'i  a  mind   constituted  and  circumstanced  as  ins    then 
u  is,  was  mi  \pio.-:i!)ly  attractive. 

••  Meie   I   ail!,"   in1  woui-i  sav  t.i  himsi  if,  as  he  oiieii  p. ms 
ei     to  rellect,  on   an  a  ini^d!  ii'i.m  whence    he   conhl 

lo''k  Inr  ,-ome  short  'di  lanco  around  him  ;  "  here  am  1,  in 
iF-  mid-!  of  iliis  iiiimense  forest,  cut  <iH'  from  ih.n  i)!i>\ 
w  ii'id  of  civilisation  with  whicti  alone  1  am  acninintcr,— 


88  /UK    \VILDF.RXKS5- 

Here  am  I,  with  God  alone  for  my  companion  !  Oh,  wliai 
a  sublime  and  awful  thought  !  Vet,  why  tremble  at  its 
vastness  !  It  cannot  be  presumptuous,  for  it  is  true: 


"Oh,  adorable  Being  !  tliou  hast  placed  me  here,  where  I 
feel  the  true  independence  and  dignity  of  my  nature,  for 
here  1  am  only  dependent  on  thee.  In  this  place  sneietv 
claims  nothing  from  in'1,  nor  1  any  thinrj  from  it.  Were  all 
my  fellow-men  extinguished  from  the  earth,  and  I  left  alone 
here,  dependent,  just  as  I  now  almost  feel  myself  to  be,  sole 
ly  on  my  own  exertions  and  thy  blessing,  how  awful,  how 
solemn,  but  how  ennobling,  how  elevating,  would  be  the 
thought!  O!  lei  me  fur  a  moment  enjoy  the  magnificence 
of  the  idea,  fur  it  will  on!v  list  a  moment.  There  are  ye! 
men  in  the  world  wiih  whom  I  must  unite,  and  to  who-r 
institutions  and  form*  1  must  bend  —  and  this  soul-exahiru 
illusion  of  my  God  and  myself,  being  all  my  cone  -rn,  will 
soon  va:'.ish.  But  it  is  thy  will,  and  I  submit." 

At  other  times  the  reeollecH  on  of  Carrawoona's  malig 
nancy  towards  him,  would  occur  to  his  m'md,a-id  he  would. 
especially  in  passing  ravines,  glens,  and  rivulets,  instinct 
ively  exerl  all  iii.s  ]a>".ilii  •.-  of  hearinir  an  1  seeing,  h;?t  an 
enemy  should  attack  him  unawares.  At  length,  having  ex 
erted  both  mind  and  body,  with  intense  energy  for  a  number 
of  hours,  he  reached  the  Monongahela  ;  but  he  was  uncur 
tain  from  not  seeing  the  marks  referred  to  in  his  directions, 
whether  Gdbert  Fraziers  bouse  was,  in  respect  to  tivj  river, 
above  or  below  him.  In  this  state  of  incertitude  respecting 
his  course,  he  reclined  himself  beneath  a  large  maple  tree 
that  grew  upon  the  bank,  amidst  a  thicket  of  sassafras, 
elders,  and  hazels,  in  order  to  reflect,  a  little  before  lie  should 
determine  on  which  way  to  pr.r>eed.  Here  his  mind  so-n 
wandered  from  its  original  object,  and  turned  towards  the 
waste  and  barbarous  state  of  the  country  where  he  was  then 
seated,  a  forlorn  solitary  be'uur,  amidst  ferocious  savages,  and 
the  object  of  intense  hatred  to  some  of  them. 

Among  other  subjects  of  reflection,  the  strange  circum 
stance  of  .)  white  man  enjoying  a  permanent  and  unmolested 


['HE     WILDERNESS. 

•  -sidence   in  such   a  country,  and  amidst  such   inhabitants, 

:  TM-  his  attention,  and  excited  his  snrprse.  What  could 
luce  a  single  individual  of  Ivtropean  origin  to  settle  among 
Mich  a  people,  ami  hi  such  an  unpromising  region,  he  could 
understand;  and  it'  i;  had  not  been  that  tie  considered  it 
ohnost  profane  to  douhl  the  word  of  Tonnaleuka,  he  sho;:ld 
have  conceived  the  tale  of  a  white  man  'i.-inir  in  that  vicinity 
a-^  altogether  fabulous.  To  believe  it,  however,  he  \\-  is  re 
solved,  Miice  his  deliverer  had  said  it — and  believe  it  he  did; 
bat  he  conceived  tha'  this  nvm  must  be  some  adopted  son 
of  a  savage,  perhaps  married  to  a  squaw,  and  in  point  of 
manners,  disposition,  and  understanding,  in  all  probability, 
ii  ithing  superior  to  his  wild  brothers  of  tin;  forest. 

ilaviMLT  come  to  this,  charitable  estimate:  of  Gilbert's  char- 
acier,  he  rose  to  pursti"  his  course  up  the  river,  almost  care 
less  whether  or  not  it  should  briivj  him  to  t!ie  residence  of 
one  of  whom  he  had  form-'d  si  indill'-jrent  a:i  opinion. 
S  nee  Tonnaleuka  had  agreed  to  meet  hi'n  t:!!'.i;i.  he  indeed 
AVIS  desirous  to  lind  the  price  :  but  that  ho  believed  he 
co  dd  easily  do  without  at  present  '.nvnr_r  himself  much  trou- 
b!"  about  it,  before  Tonnaleuka  could  be,  expected  to  reach 
;t.  In  the  meantime,  the  falling  in  with  any  Indian  wigwam, 
m;n'ht  aii'onl  him  for  the  niLrht,  as  hospitable,  and  perhaps  as 
en  niortabie  a  lod^'in:;'.  With  these  idea-;  revolving  in  his 
m:nd,  as  hij  \vas  advancing  from  his  thicket,  he  perceived, 
to  his  utter  astonishment,  tv.-o  while  mid  decently  attired 
females,  appm •ichm •>•  towards  him  down  the  bank  of  the. 
river,  fie  suddenly  drew  back  mf.o  h1-  concealment,  struck, 
tie  with  fear,  hut  vvi'.li  awe;  lor  as  he  could  not  suppose 
eh  di/ed  white  WOIUMI  to  '>e  in  -le-li  a  place,  and,  at  thetii'st 
u  I  'ice.  he  saw  thev  were  not  squaws,  lie  for  an  instant  eon- 
'd1  l"d  liii'ui  to  be  uolbiuu  h.'ss  thin  supernatural  beings, 
tor  >ome  divine  |)urpose,  to  \ri^i!  him  in  his  present 
ex  •  raoi  diuarv  situation.  Ills  philosophy,  howevi'r,  instau- 
t.ii  .'ouslv  rose  in  anus  a^jainsl  this  conclusion;  vel  he 
thc'iiiihl  lit  to  remain  conceded  for  a  few  minutes,  until  he 
ha  I  discovered  something  more  satisfactory  concerning  ob- 
|ec  s  mat  had  struck  his  excited  fancy  as  beiiiLf  ahnosi.  too 
lo\  .'I  v  to  be  ej rt hi  v. 

•V  hen    thi'\-    (lre\v    ifar    (mou<fh,    h.owe'/er,    to    be    more 
' 


minutely  distinguished,  lie   became  satisiied  that  the) 

of  kindred   clay,  real  llesh  -nid  blood   iiki;    himself;    anil    i". 

was  delighted  to   hear   their   languaoe  to  be  j-liioii-ii,  lor  mn 

perceiving  him,  their  discourse  AS  as  nut  interrupted   as   they 

passed. 

"  It  war;  indeed  a  noble,  a  holy  proceeding,  worthy  <»! 
Tonnaleuka,  whose  whole  pleasure  is  in  domii  srood,"  said 
she.  whom  he  perceived  to  be  by  far  the  most  beautiful  <'i 
ihe  two,  and  whose  loveliness  had.  indeed,  riveted  his  alien- 
lion  so  much  as  to  make  him  almost  overlook  her  compan 
ion,  who  replied — 

"And  J'addy  says  thai  the  prisoner  wrfs  OHM  of  the  lies! 
looking  younsi  men  he  has  ever  seen.  1  hope  Carrawoona 
will  not  lind  him."' 

"A  good  providence  will  protect  him!"  said  the  lirsi. 
"That  (Jod  who  afforded  him  such  a  timely  rescue  is  able, 
and  1  trust  that  he  will  still  be  willing,  to  extend  over  him 
his  shield  of  safety." 

Charles,  who  at  once  knew  himself  to    !)e   the   subject  oi 
this  conversation,  felt  something  inexpressibly  sweet    i.i   the 
tones  of  that  voice  which  had  uttered  this  wish  I 'or  his  sale 
ly  :   and    he    \vas   oniv   prevented    from    rushing   forward    io 
express  his  "ra'itude,  bvihat  profound  feeling  of  awe  he  had 
imbibed   at   tlieir  lirst.  appearance,  and  \vhich  Mas  now  kepi 
alive,  not  by  an  impression  of  their  }>rh;<r  unearthly,  hut   b\ 
a   conviction    that  one  of  them  suipa-sed  all   of  lier   .-ex   lit 
had  evi  r  seen,  i.;  loveliness  and  excellence,      lie  came    lot- 
ward,  gradually,  out  ol  his  concealment,  as  thev  moved  lion 
him,  with  his  eyes  steadily  fixed  upon  them,  or  rather  upon 
her  who  had   charmed   him   more   than  ever  woman  had  be 
lore.      At  length,  descending  into  a  valley,  tV.'v  were  hiddei 
from  his  sin  hi. 

"i  wit!  follow  her,"  t!;o;';:ht  he.  ';  although  it  be  no!  ;lu 
course  1  intended — such  H  being  can  lead  no  where  Inn  to 
safety — to  happiness." 

lie  accordingly  hastened   afler  them  ;   but,  on   c^mini;    to 
the  point  at  which   they  had  disappeared,  he  was   surpriser 
to  behold,  in  a  romantic  v:;llev  heneath    him,  throug 
a  meajidering  rivulet    sou;:'ht    and    olitaiiicd  a  union 
Monongalit'la,  :\  neat  ami  prosperoii:;  luukiu;r  f.irm. 


,.:  i,i  fences,  lis  orchards,  ii::  UK  adow  L'^'iiiid..  and  its  m  id 
-:ii!  \\-'  stacks   o!'  "rain,  surrounding  a  lar^e,  *id> 
;!ii;i:ii  loir  dwelling  hous,',  oi'  comfortable  appearance,  ha v- 

:^-  tiie  -    i        ' >i ;    hmejU  of  bn  rn.  stable,  cov,  - 

•;iien'  disl 

much  I  he  air  :i IK!  character  < ii    n 
:i  (iiic  \vhosfj  mime  nui\    ri\'cr\  il:i\    ! •••••  ••<  '-\i 

\\  i! u  :i  place  i;i  l i" 

iii-    p-niscii    ii;;-   :i    iiKciicui.  :ii    in:'    iinexpt'c'led  rfi^lit,  and 

;!   a   S!'ns:itt(i!l    of    ll()!!li'-!"ll    couifori   ^n>\\  iili' 

lie  lona  \vandcrin<r  exile  i  n  re.turniuir  homo, 

of  his  n;iti\  (•  viliniic.      i  !;•   I'.'h    soine- 
\  ei'\"  exi-icii'-    -  !  i     ;i"  uppca)1;!  n 
•  .   ill'!!    were    in'owsiiiir 

so  ;:iul  diiii^-iiill 
to  \\  arm    Ins.  hei'.ri, 
re  In  HI  pleasure;. 

'I'i'  '    fair   ohjrcl    lliat  h:id  attracted  lii:i;  hiilier,  had    been 

r  ahoul    :i    miniile    i-oncenled    from    his  view,  l>y  llie  inler- 

i    of  some    trees.      1'ut,  Ir-  now  ;r_r:iiu  percei\eo  her, 

nion,  advancing   alon?^   a  >hort  lam;  lowaids 

in,  v/iii'n  lli 

1      .  he  suddcul\    [)Hrcei\'('d 
.•o    men  lioeino- oiil  ,  .  wliich   hero   spread 

io  \  iew  hel  wt  i  n  linn  and  the  ri\    r. 

fie   :  ppnniched   iliem  and  [icreeived — imt  1  al.:o  jierreive 

ai    1    niii.-'    en'    short    ihis   ehapHT.      A  dull    peri'ormance 

iL;lit  never  to  In1  a   lonu'  one  ;    ii  is  so  exhau.^in^  upon    ihe 

•   ader's    patience,  of   which     I    am    desirous    thai    he  should 

iam  a  >u lln-iciil  stock  to  accompany  me  through  the  wliole 

'(•lore    make  it  ;i   nilr,  when   1   'eel    m\seif  he- 

.  Io  cease  wrili IP.''  :    and,  if  pos--ii <\c. 

the  reailer 

cease  reai  :  '    means    \\  e    have  hoili  an  oppor- 

ni!v  o!    reco\  laan^'   our    -jiirits.  and  ol    rei-oiimienein<r   oni' 
••'spedive  tasks  wiih  renewed   \  jo-or  and  animation. 


CHAPTER 


Survives  thvoii'jh  ;ill  vicissitude  :-  <>!   tinu: 

And  iiiil  oi'  staK-s  ;   ilmt  pure  jiiitl  innate  love 

<  'f  liiiiiir.n  kiini.  uhi.-li  pro!  •  •  <:ruus  souJi 

To  hi  eccls,  «  liicli  bi'U-  il 

Tl;c  loj!"  ;;r<]   f':   '  '  *t. 

I;,\SKF;T  OF  SCRAPS. 

I  may,  at  oner,  in  form  the  reader,  lor  I  hate  a  round- 
about  way  of  tciiinir  a  story,  ihat  llic  two  men  whom  \vc 
at  ;he  termination  of  the  i:;st  chapter,  lift  Clmrlcs  Adderlv 
in  t!;e  art  of  approaching,  A\';TC  (Iil!)crt  Fi'azier  and  ii: 
AiT-liy.  'i'hi'A  were  so  husih  iiKp'oyc'd  in  hoeing  out  iheir 
poiato(,«.  tl:at  thev  did  n'>i  (  bscrvo  him  tiil  lie  had  advanced 
almost  close  to  them,  when  Arch>'  called  on;  — 

'•Father!  look  about!  —  I  purie-st  ihere's  a  whiu;  man 
comin"  to  ii,c;  !'' 

Cnlilhert  turned  r(.und.  and  \\\\]\  an  e\ident,  emotion  hoih 
of  surprise  and  respect,  moved  his  hat.  and  then  siandinjf 
stock  still  with  his  hoe  in  his  hand,  jrazcd  intently  at  the 
stranoer  until  l;r  spoke1. 

"AJy  {rood  i'riend."  raid  hr\  4i  !  am  an  unfortunate  wan 
derer  in  this  wilderness,  where  I  am  hoth  surprised  and 
rejoiced  to  meet  Aviih  a  white  man.  ?,Jay  I  ask  a  few 
nio-lit's  lodp-ing-  ficm  \  our  kindness:" 

'•  ]i()do-in!  !  yes.  —  wi'  a'  iny  hear!  —  a  white  man!  an'  a 
pentleman:  —  wi'  a"  my  heart!  But.  may  1  ask  your  name. 
sir?" 

'•  3Iv  namo  is    ^.clderlv.'j 

"  Adder!  y  —  A(i«;eiJy!  —  you  earn'  wi'  the  Ohio  settlers: 
I  dcol  na.  sir,  ye  liae  he('n  unfortunate.  Hut  we'll  «-aiuy  to 
the  hoose,  sir.  \  e'll  be  needin'  somethin'  to  eat  an'  drink. 
na  (loot-  —  for  tliere's  no  muckle  to  be  had  that's  <rnid  ie-r  onv 
(hin<rin  this  woods." 
So  saving,  he  moved  forward  n.  fev/  stens  —  then 


93 

snddenlv,  he  muttered — "\\lia  keu- !    wha   kens! — it  iruv. 
be  sac" — and  turnin?  i<>  Charles,  he  asked — 
"  Adder!\  ,  ye  sav  thc\   en'  ye  !" 

'•Air  cannn  yo  mind  to  hae  oT"cr  heard  o'  von  Thomas 
Adder'v,  wha.  when  i  leev'd  on  the  Juniaia.  I  was  Uuild. 
had  eame  !Vae  Ireland  to  Philadelphia.'" 

"That  T!i. imas  AtidtTiN"  i-=  m\'  ilith;-,-.*' 

"Thomas  Addcrlv!  \  our  i'aliier!"  (Jilbcrt  exclaimed,  sta- 
rin<_r  onrnos'lN"  in  Char!  • — "Thomas  Adder! v  your 

r;i'lier!  nr,  ;vild  I'ricn' !" — here  lu>  thrcu'  au'ay  the  hoe 
I'll  he  h:!-l  lill  linvv  rr-tainc'd  in  his  hand,  by  way  of  a 
walking  stick,  and  calrhinp1  Charles  ea^erlv  b\'  both  hands, 
he  continued  his  exclnmations — "  U  !i\  !  wr, \'l  the  sin  o'  my 
nu id  frien',  Tljomas  Adderly,  o'  Mau^hrvgo'A  an  :  ecine  to 
risk  lodinn'  (Vae  rue — av,  that  ve'll  hae,  tlie  best  that  i  can 
U'i'  \< — tiie  be-i  ()(•(!.  :!,(-  best  meat,  the  best  drink,  the  best 
o'  everv  tiiiii;;';  that  (Jilbert  l^razier  can  fie  von.  The  sin 
o'  in\  anld  iVieir  iVae  Maii^hrvuowan — Arcb.v!  Archy  !  rin 
las',  iiiy  braw  !ad!  rin  (as!,  and  tell  \  our  mother  that  the 
sin  o"  mv  anld  IrieiT,  the  sin  o"  TI'enKis  Adderly  o'  Alann;h- 
r\  U-o\van,  i--  c  ce  us.  An'  baste  ye,  Archv!  jlet  the 

w!iite-l;iccd  e  .  it's  the  fattest — an'  be  na  ian^some, 


owre  tie  onn'ain.  an'    the  Laurel  I]  ill,   an'  the 

1    me.      ( .  nid    bless    T,  e, 
s  !an«j-  as 

\  e    i  a  1  i  i  o '  >  s  a  i  T    ', 

An'    the  a.nld  squire,  -  ere  ^ranYather,  (ni'irr,    :i  funnv  da, v    L 
"'  \vi'  ;!|"  youngsters  roon  ;iie  shrubb-'Ties  a,n'  (lie 
••    i  i  e "  s  1 1 )  Ve!.'" 

iiio    i,  •    the    latent   ac- 
i  \  e . 

<}•  i,  •-•  •    li'  -.d  •  ,    ;                                •  e.'  ill, 

eoiiie  ire'o  tli';  h»ose.        X Vli  \  ,  pti  i  s  lie '11  be 

t<)  see  the  sin  (','   b                   leipia  iiilant'e  !  'i  i;   were    na    bnrii 
;n   Mai^'hrvp'-'iM'snt,  we.-«'  •    • 


9  1  i  ni:    v.  li.uruxf  ."s. 

"  No,"  replied  Charles,  "  Pliiladelphia  is  my  birth-place." 

"All!  weel,  it's  na  di!i''T:'nc(  --  ve're  the  sin  an'  the 
uraif-sin  o'  Maughrygowan  men  —  an'  na  doot  a  true  Irish 
man  in  your  heart." 

Charles  ass.uied  him,  i-vuleMtlv  \f:~:y  much  to  his  satis 
faction,  iliat  he  had  a  <_rreat  partiali;v  i'or  that  country:  for, 
ind;  pendenl  of  iis  ht-ii:^  the  land  of  hi-  fathers,  he  had 
there,  received  the  chief  part  of  his  education,  and  spent  the 
happiest  pisriion  of  hio  life. 

"Then  ye  hae  heen  in  Ireland,  sir?" 

"Yes;  vvithin  these  last  six  months  I  sailed  from  Lon 
donderry  ." 

"Frae  Derry!  frae  l/erry!  —  an'  hoo  did  tin-  auld  countrv 
an'  the  auld  city  look  ?  —  \n'  ye  were  at  Mauffhryofowan 
too,  dooilc.--;  '" 

"Yes,  I  spent  jiart  of  the  last  •uinter  ther.'." 

"A  if  \vas  every  thin;;'  the  same.'  Ah!  i  doot  na,  there 
an'  iuony  cliarr/er.  iiiere  s\  ne  i  sa\v  it.  Hut  1  need  na  ask 
sae  fool  a  question  frai  i  ou,  lhat  \vas  na  then  in  the  Ian'  o' 
the  lefvin!." 

They  ha;l  hv   fiiis   iii"e  arrived   at   ;ho  door  of  (iili;crt'> 

dwelling,  \\here  .'v  H\  .  i;i  consequence  of  Arclr.  "s  informa 

tion,.  Mas  (jvaitin'r  ia  a   :  o'reat   impatience    to    meet 

them.     i\i  r-oiirctMiL;-  Manghrygowan.   and    tlic-  days  of  her 

outh,  she   had    ius!    iakeu   timi    to  make  h  ?)if.  as 


••''.(•    -t'!l    c.xluliiit'd  -uaii'S    of   those 

bloominu'   ^'a.ces    \\hichthirtv  years   before    iiad   crp'ivated 
(iiihe  reiiort   spoke   truth,  had  drawn  some  eulo 

gies,  which   had   conic  to  i'f>r  ea.rs,  and  now  returned  to  her 


himself. 

"X(        '          ;*  '.9    exclaimed  (~',\\  hey  approached 

Avh'::v  she  stood  in  the  door:  "here,  here  is  ibe  sin  o' 
vcuiiLr  squire  Adder!  ;iUMnianee,  an'  the.  tiran'- 

siii  o"  t'u?  auld  squire,  just  cam  frae  Derrv  owre  the  sea. 
an"  a'  th."  wa v  owre  !/::>  .Sileu"hen\  .Mountain,  an'  the 
Laurel  Hill,  an"  tin;  (.'hesnut  Midge,  to  ask  lod'iin'  frae  us' 
Did  vou  ever  think  o"  sefin"1  fitch  a  dav?" 


THli     WII.DKR.N'r.ss.  !).» 

Nellv  made  a  conrtesv,  ;m;i  ('.'nrle;;  holdino  out  his  hand, 
s!i  •  caught  it,  and,  while  the  tears  were  perceptibly  swell 
ing  in  her  eyes,  she  bade  him  welcome,  adding — 

••Ah!  sir,  indeed  \e  pit  m-1  iu  min'  o'  ;iuid  limes,  ye  hae 
sae  muckle  o'  the  braw  looks  </  your  fadier.  l.-Uud  I  urn, 
truly.  1o  hae  yen  frae  the  place  unYr  iav  roof.  In  thir 
wild  woods,  I  ne'er  expected  to  be  sae  christianlike  on  this 
side  o'  the.  i'Ta^e.  I  kenned  your  father  weel  in  Mauulir\- 
srowan — ve  hae  muckie  o'  his  looks!  But  come  in — we 
maun  i^et  something  reach"  to  inak'  ye  comfortable — for  ve 
maun  hae  had  a  hard  time  o't  ihrouuh  the  wood*.  I  wou- 
ner  in  the  wido  warl  hoo  so  could  guide  A  oursel'  umauif 

Sl;.>  had  by  tliis  time  led  Charles  to  the  door  of  a  decent 
but  small  apartment,  in  which  the  funiiuin1.  although  it  was 
rouyh,  wan  convenient,  and  rxtremdv  clean  in  iis  appear 
ance,  it  had  been,  as  ihe  ^rvater  Dovnon  of  the  i'urnilure 
in  ill!'  house  was,  of  i'addv  l'ra_/.icr's  workmanship,  whose 
industry,  when  he  would  be  industrious,  inclined  more  to 
•  rs  of  i!\h  kind,  than  to  cultivating1  the  soil,  j;  was 
wei!  for  the  respectability,  at  least  in  point  of  appearance.. 
of  (Jilheri's  hour-vhold  concerns,  tliat  .!J:uldy  did  po:-s;'ss 
inyenuilv  of  th;  :  for  lie  himself  i)osse?.rr:'d  little  or 

lion!.-,  and  as  to  \ivhv,  he  \vas  totally  destitute  of  any  iliin^ 
like  ii.  Yv  e  may  here  mention,  that  i'addv  hail  procured 
tools  and  other  necessaries  for  maiviii^  furaiture,  Irom  sev- 

id,  in  consequence. 
IVeiju  'S.    V;ibl;'S. 

.  i he}'  \vi  •  •   con\  ci: .  . •  ti;;1 

i!e    habitation    •  i  . ' 

rs,  doors,  p;1  nitions, 

•    ii  ' 

in  Shi1  \\  hole,  ( iiibe'-i'-    n  .id 


•r,  iike 
•:its  !or 


'id  TIIK    \vii.M:r 

enjoying  the  luxurious  atmosphere  of  a  snnimer's  e,vcmn<r. 
'i'lic  'ran'  door  v,-;:s  in  'ho  centre  -if  .  from 

whence  an  (Mitry  or  hp'J.  nf  about  five  feel  wide,  extended 
throuirh  the  house,  lending  on-  of  the  back  de,  ir  into  :i 
secondarv  or  in  !  • 

Inched  to  the  other  which  served  for  ;\  kitchen.      The  st;  Lrs 
or   nither   step?,  for  thev  \vcrf   noiliin.':  hnt  :i  /;,•.-)(/  /  s 
ladder,  boarded 

•MI  try.      f5o'!i  floors,  consi  o!'  nenrU  • 

si/e   and   oonstruction,  bu!   nol  •    xv.'l!  furnished;    (hi- 

one  -  into    v\'!)ic!i     (  'liar!'  Al  r- 

Fra/i'M-  •  ie 

i'nt  this   rooin  wonl  '.  in  Ch-M.-le.^' 


it  'h(- 

apartm  ii'ter 

savins 

beantifii]   bcin<r  wliose   e! 

ted,    so    siroivj'l\-   riveted    !i'  :   alien  d    h:ni 

. 
i.  and  conjectured   .  n  r'ra/iiM*. 

him  ;'•• 

•  •\  ,  v.-ho  had  !>e(Mi  in 
another  apartment,  :  e  \va*  intrn- 


of  the  forcsf;   rec-  i  •«,  \,T 

:i.nd  e- 

• 
jH'<,ac.  .     • 

iinprovi'1 

do  'ho  same,  \vlir-;; 

nlie  declini  io\vever,  *>e  e-np]/osed    iliat  shi1 

i];;i  f-'o  :Vr;n.i  a:v".    r.^'er-:;:  ::-;;  ofliMmili'v,  miK-i":  )•-••  -:  iVom  a;v. 
.i^wiHiiv.fijf^s    '•'!    r-'liov,"  ih:-1  Ftrnng-er  ;'  prf»r>rr  'jr1"-.    :_• 
p'Cl.      /u'ihicr   \AHS  ^hn  qni-'1  indifiVretir  ^s  to  i^c  eiu-ct  of 
h"r   ;;rpparancf!   unon    him  ;   Jin"1',  i:  mns!   !"    c^-ue>scd.  that 
he-V)"^    she   decided    :"«-:i.ins<    fhnn^inir  her   nppnvel,  f?h(?  had 


aken  a  slv  stolen  irlance   or    i\vo  at  rt   mirror,   (for   Gilbert 
had  been  supplied  by  the  river  traders  with  several  of  these 
articles.)  which  hunt!'  coir,  enientl  v  tor  such  a  purpose,  upon 
ihe   \<  ooden  Avail  of  tin:    apartment.      The  result  of  ihis  ex 
amining  L!'ai!ce    was.    that    she   should   be  content  Avith    her 
it   condition;    for,   although   she  was  no!  jraudily,  she 
was   lieaily  apparelled,  aiid   liavii1.^  no  tlesire  to  particularly 
Iract    ihe    sir;  •  did   not    think  if  neeessary  stu- 

\    to  adorn  lu'r  person. 

\\  hen  she  lir^t  saw  Charles  Adder! v.  liowevrr,  a  feeling 

of  an   undeiinahle   nature,  such  as  she  had  inner  h:  fore,  ex- 

perienced,  seized    upon    liei-  miiid,   \\ineh  eaussnl    her.  in  a 

:\in  d:'u'reo.  to  rej:  n!    her   i  ot   ha\'ino-  followed  Nancy's 

•;•:    and  wlie-n  this  feelhiir  f  ;isidera.hly  iieiu'ht- 

hy  his    name   .-•uu'^csun^  io  lier,  that  this  niusl  he  the 

same  intcrcstiiiij  youth  who  had  heen  so  lately  rescued  troni 

the  cru   1  vengeance  of  th  s    ov  her  revc-reil  Tonna- 

Icuka,  site,  in  spit.'1  of  hei-.--"it',  feii   uni'i'sy  :i'id   embarassed, 

iViim    the  idea  tlii''    i:  had  er  to  ha\ c  m.:de 

'i  tic    reception    she 
him.    therefore,  A  •    little  constrained, 


and  limid.  a,nd  her   manner   AVIIS    rendered   the  more,  emha:1- 

i  her  dis:  i  \vi:h  it. 

'  r\  the   ot!:pr    hamh   N;  •  jjared  for    the   occasion, 

\viih  ail  iii'r  rnr:  cd    him  Avith  an 

ly,    and    ^  •;    soniCAvhat   ot 

>.  \vhich  Charles  would   have  iel'    rather  disagree- 

nd  unljccoininir,  hul  for  tin1   aj)paren1    candor  and  inno- 

•  d.       In    .-hort,    the 

manners   ot   1  •  .    comparatively  speaking, 

'••\   ihe   IMI- 
' 

:md  enliirlitened   Maria  e\hihhed  '.he  h-:,-hfid- 
• 

nnnesiialino-ly 

the    :  ner   of   liis    n  <•  by  Al.i  ria. 

!n  In  r  he  Cither  sa\\  ,  or  iancied  he  sa\\',  the  ellecls  ;;!  art 
less  nature,  irennnie  inodesiy,  and  refined  sensibility;  and 
those  he  preferred  infinitely  to  any  cllnri  'it  cultured  maix- 


iier.  or   disciplined   n  '  in    \<,< 

\vnrle  feed  in  oli 

she  (In  he    had 

e,r  belie  v  (  .  •  e,  fell  iniiniieU  -h  M  ' 

f>f  the  en" rins  of  her  i 

1 

:.         III!  ;     , 

!    iioui 

111.        i  ir    \ 

.    Ml!'  i, 
'•(ill  -e< 

"  Thir   h 

u  lie.    placing    siDiuo 
•!).   \vilh(1n>\\"  !••>!•   i!it'    |-  . 
s'l   cffiUiiiiv  -•  oi'  n   iiioi 

--••  'i'liir   Lv  . 

l-.i-n.  !KK:  boon  broiifhl  uj • 
:;if  ii  man  i    I 

;  \viiiic  us 

ouKl     . 

ll.      .\^h  !    I  k(  I;:;;  (1   \";:;:  ;•  i;i  ;  •  S}  nc 

— tli<  re  was ::::  (\  brisker  iui'  ! 
parish.      ]  hope  lie':  ;t,  air  svcar:    \vcel.'" 

Charlc-s  assured  hiai    ill,  t    he  ^v;;s  siill    hcalthv,  :md  very 
little  altered  r.\  ii:-;  appearance  since  lie  first  kue\r  him. 

'•  (Had   o  •    l.   sir,"   replied   (iiiherl;   ••  [   Avad   i:'ie 

ihe  best  hurse  ere  put  leir  in  rnv  stable,  io  hac  A 
hi?  auld  3iand,  just   1'or   the   sal  iv'  oor 

i    an   unco 

.the    ( '  !L;  ppeway*.      J5ut 

i   can    in;  ;  !:-(>   can — 

];(>rs  a  Av,"i  mil  thai."' 

C'h.arles  no\v  iiitbrineti  it  was  l»v  Tonnaletika's 

directions  thai  he  had  olfiruded  himself  upon  his  hospi 

"  (.)l)trudi;.  sir!"'  interruj)ti-d  Gilbert,  "oblrude!      I'm  uo' 
v  niuckle  learned,  sir,  but  1  think  that  A\  ord  means  romin' 


•d  v\  ii;n   ven  s  no  .\veeleom  .      [Son,  sir,  inn    ve   were  11:1  as 
our  here  as  in  Nil':;'  rr,  her's,  parlor,  this  house  siiouldiri 
!>eion<_>    lo   (  i  liberi    i 

••  i    am  •-'  your   kindness,"   observed   Charles; 

••and  to  tell  YOU  the  iruii'.  i  in  reality  lee!  happier  just 
jio\v  under  \i>ur  roo!'  than  ever  i  remember  to  Ji;i\i'.  I'eli 
under  m  fatln  .  or  !  !:  il  ol  ;in\'  otlicr  )cr>on 


"  rl'h;i!ik    ve,  sir,  .I'm   yhd    o'i  —  aiid  L  \vis!i  hoo   laivf   ye 
nriv  hide  \vi'  us.  ;  '  aiisvrci'  \  '.       \  e  1!  i\<>'  ihiiik  o' 

a';niL;  ini.''  !i:!!iu?  th  .  snths,  al    on\    rate.      Til;1  winter's 

sac  ii<;ar  !i;i  ;i\  il  wadna  '  ilc. 

Charles    replied,   that    ;  .         :,       •  ..    ..|lo;i].i 

earn    or  --ind   speedv   intelliironce   oi    !u-<   laie  disasters   K; 

to    ihe    me  isuros    he 

shi.iiiii    adopt    i  ";,    he    had    thuiijj'lHsi    oi 

heiii^-   i1;  ilic    advice   oi'   Toiiiialeuka, 

on   \vhi  lature  o 

ihe  <•  nlor  ami  i  riendshi  p 

in;'  iiimsci  I',  he  had  ev' 

••  "'i  e'  ;-.'  :•':•'!  :.  iii\    I'ri  •;)'.'•  •:!!!•      re  wise 

loo  in  thai.      Tonnaleu  his  eonn- 

lr\  ,  ai  i  ry  ither  eountry  in  die  \\  ;•  \-\\ 

lee\'j!i'.      I'll  no  exi  ••  :\  e\v- 

I  mi.  i  i,--   I  \    ^iisliman,  M'ha    the\    sa\    i--    llic  .  greatest  ph  iloso- 
(iher,  an  was    e\  ei 

known.       \  e    \vad    \voinier,  sir.  to    !:  ine- 

iiiin  .  ,  iiickle  kno\\ 

ii  d  '_'•<•,  that,  naiu     o'    •      '  •      :    alien    con  ip  re  hen 

liieie,  lh:;l 

linn  .  .       : 

\\  :ni  rather  ih.'ii    m\'  h  ,'ard   ;:;'  <;'  co/n  i  ii;r,   !  r 

i       •  rstan     siich    ihiiio-s    sae   u  eel    as    \  on  do.       Thai    uia 

,   I   maun   I  e  1  1  on   \     n  ,  1  1  e  "  e  i 
\\  i 

her." 

••  i  .'.'•  i  '•   '.       .•  i'ia.  \\  ho  ]                  1  thai   i\  anc'     felt 

' 

UiijiiM     a    eoinpai  e-  il     ii.-..                                            < 

thin;.'-'    jiidiiled    niM'-ii  !i\    Tnnirdiuk.                   iidions.       Am' 


;i:  '.it  iii\  ;•-(•!;'.  considering-  th'1  remote  and  secluded  situation 
in  which  I  :n:i  doomed  lo  pass  my  life,  the  jrra'ilVinir  my 

en  r;ithcr  disad\  antag"eon* 

iliini  otherwise;  ii  mav  have  occupied  that  time  which 
would  liavi  iyed  with  more  advantage  10  bod> 

i;d  myself  in  persona!  labor." 

"  Personal  labor,  my  bairn  !      AVhy  think  ye,  that  gin  ye 
mod  ihe  al]>hahet,  tha;   1   wad 

hac1  lei  yon  work  In  ihc  cornfields  or  meadows,  or  in  grnb- 
bin:<"  roots,  or  makin'  rails  .'  .>,  a.  na,  faith  .'  1  svad  hae 
done  a'  ihir  things  on  my  knees  first.  [3u!  hae  na  \"e  been 
aye  busy.  .Maria  :'  Y\~hv  Aeily  has  ai'ien  said  that  ye  hae 
doon  mair  sewin',  an'  spinin',  an'  knitt"i-i  in  yen  v/eek  than 
Nancy,  wi'  a'  her  :  to  learnin',  iias  doiu1  in  a 

month." 

••  My  dear   father,"   said    Maria,  seeinir  t'nat   Tvancy  was 
extremely  linrl  at  tiiis  invidions  comparison,  "do  no;  lu-  so 

•  .  towards  i:i\  sister.     I  cannot  bear  to  be  complim 
so  mncii  a!  li;-r  expens;1.      ^iie  is  iar  from  Jieini:  so  ioftioranl 
•  :   and  Tonnalenka,  whose    jncUnnent    von 
will  no;  dispute,  \\\\>  lony  lo  tiie  ^oodn(\ss 

of  her  heart,  and  the  amiability  of  her  disposition.  As  lo 
industry,  does  she  ti  m  ilirico  the1  labor  that  i  dn  iji 

d;;irv  matters,   and    in  •    concerns  .'      I'Yom   M'ltich  of 

us  does    our   motlier    •  he   greatest    assistance    in    the 

••aiion    of  your   food  .'      '••  \  es.    t:i 

(her.  she  has  often,  when  she  supposed  I  was  ion  busih, 
employed  in  these  i  their  per 

fbrmance  to  her.  lest  I  s;;o:i!d  fa.tisi'ue  myself'.  1  r»nnno! 
bear  iiiat  so  much  kindness  should  no!  receive  justice. 

Here  Xancy,  whose  feelings  were  more  touched  •-.  '•\\\  h*  : 
oislcr's  i'T-nerous    defence    than    they  had   been   wiih    her  ta 
tiler's  accusation,  caninu  !ier   b\   the  hand,    for  she  sal  next 
to  In-r.j  and  with  a  he;  ist  o!    yn ' i 

tndc?  as  oi  vexation,  said — 

••  [    nuisi    fonii-ss   thai    m\    !  peaks   truth:    K.-r    von 

h;i.  obiained  far  more1  bench!  than  1  ever  conld  irom  'J'on- 
naieuka's  lesr-on.-.  And  as  to  heavy  working,  yon  are  al 
ways  as  willing"  as  I  ;im.  bni  as  yon  nre  no;  so  sn'onu".  \o!i 
are  more  easily  fatigued,  and  on  thai  account  i  do  no;  like 


."HE    WILDERNESS-  101 

'o  ?ee  you  much  at  it.  You  are  better  and  more  usefully 
"mployed  at  quilting,  and  darning-,  and  figuring,  and  knit- 
•iiiii.  and  such  things  that  keep  the  house  trig-  and  comfort 
able,  than  I  could  be,  for  I  couldna  like  you  confine  myself 
closely  at  them,  as  they  sometimes  require." 

Here  Gilbert,  pleased  with  this  generosity  of  Nancy,  as 
if  !iis  heart  mis<ra\e  him  for  having1  said  any  thing  to  hurt 
her  feelings,  arose,  and  catching  both  her  and  Maria  by  the 
hand,  said — 

"  Ye  are  baith  mv  bairns — gudc  lasses  to  yere  father,  an' 

^  o  ^ 

I  hae  na'  fau't  to  find  wi'  ye.  I  ditina  prefer  the  tane  to 
'lie  tither  ;  I  like  ye  baith  alike,  an'  I'm  muckle  pleased 
that  ye  hae  aye  liked  yen  anither  sae  weel.  Indeed  ye  hae 
aye  been  a  comfort  to  baith  me  an'  yere  mi  the  r  in  this  wild 
wilderness.  Withoot  ye,  I  think  we  wad  hae  brak'  oor 
hearts.  But  Clod  has  jrien  ye  to  us,  an'  ye  hae  made  the 
desert  smile  on  us.  An'  oh  !  may  he  lang1  preserve  ye  to 
us,  my  bairns,  baith  gudc,  an'  innocent,  an'  contented,  as  ye 
1100  arc." 

So  sa\  inir,  ho  kissed  them  both  upon  the  cheek,  and 
'uniinjr  to  Charles,  asked  him  if  he  would  walk  out  with 
iiim  upon  the  porch  for  a  lew  minutes,  until  supper  should 
:>e  ready.  Charles  readily  assented,  for  he  perceived  that 
;he  old  man  wished  to  relieve  his  daughters  of  their  pres 
ence,  in  order  that  Nancy  might  the  sooner  recover  her 
-oreiiitv  and  cheerfulness. 


10 


Around  the  bowl  of  vanished  yours, 

\Vc  talk  of  jovoi:s  s<><  ;niiiir; 
And  smiles  that  mijjht  ns  well  be  tears, 

So  soft,  so  s;u!'s  iheir  lio.iniin^  : 
'J'ili  memory  brings  us  buck  a^ain, 

K;ich  early  tie  that  twined  us, 
ifo\<.  sweet's  the  cup  tliat  circles  then. 

To  those  we've  Icit  behind  us  ! 

MOORE. 

As  Nancy's  mind  \vas  not  the  most  susceptible  in  the 
world  ol'  lasting  impressions,  especially  of  a  disagreeable 
kind,  a  short  time  was  sufficient  to  restore  her  usual  viva 
city  and  good  humor;  and  as  both  she  and  Maria  non- 
assisted  their  mother,  supper  was  soon  got  forward,  and- 
Charles  and  his  host  were  without  delay  summoned  from 
their  perambulation  on  the  porch. 

When  Charles  saw  the  plentiful,  and  e\en  luxurious 
table  that  was  spread  before  him,  and  the  good-hearted  and 
contented  familv,  whose  own  industry,  under  ihe  blessiuo 
ol  Providence,  had  thus  procured  it  for  them  in  a  \vildcr- 
ni'ss,  sitting  down  to  partake  of  it,  his  hearl  was  lilli'd  with 
sensations  of  pride  lor  his  species,  arising  IVoin  this  pi-ouf 
belore  his  eves  of  what  their  own  ctlbrts,  if  properlv  di 
rected,  can  do  to  supply  their  wants,  and  m;ike  them  hapiu 
in  this  world,  under  even  the  most  unpromising  circum 
stances.  AY  hat  a  con'.rast,  thought  he,  is  wliat  i  now  be 
hold,  to  that  scene  of  savage  wrath  and  \en»eiu!  ieeli!!'^.-  to 
which  i  was  yesterday  so  neai'lv  l)ccoming  the  victim  ! 

Impressed  with  these  ideas,  his  heart  was  in  a  lit  state  in 
join  fervently  and  thankfullv  in  that  simple  hut  sincere  ad 
dress  to  the  (liver  of  all  n'ood,  which  (lilbcrl,  who  ever 
since  he  had  been  cut  oil'  from  all  opportunity  of  enjo\  ina 
public  wosrship.  had  been  careful  always  to  pronounce,  not 
in  set  words,  but  in  the  spontaneous  expressions  dictated 
by  his  feelino-sat  the  moment,  before  partaking  of  the  bounty 


'»!  his  Maker.  Sometimes,  this  address,  being  the  oiik 
•ies  of  religious  worship  strietlv  attended  to  by  Gilbert, 
was  extended  through  the  duration  of  several  minutes.  On 
the  present  occasion,  it  was  not  so  long,  hut  it  was  still 
longer  tlrin  any  fashionable  clergyman  would  e'ver  think 
of  making  a  grace.  As  it  was,  notwithstanding  its  illiterate 
and  (inharmonious  phraseology  at  the  time,  highly  gratifying 
to  Charles  Adderly,  I  presume  it  will  not  he  unacceptable  to 
the  reader,  and  shall,  therefore,  submit  it  to  hi.-;  perusal,  as 
follows  : 

'•(•'real  Cod!  oor  Maker,  an'  the  maker  o'  a'  things  whilk 
are  in  the  heavens  or  on  the  yearth,  an'  the  ruler  o'  haith  the 
city  an'  the  desert!  thou  ha:-t  gien  us  these  gudo  things  oot 
o"  th(!  boiintifu'  stores  o'  thy  providence,  that  we  may  nour 
ish  ooisels  \vi'  them.  Albeit  we  are  na'  worthy  o'  the 
sma'esi  morsel  o'  thv  favor,  an'  could  na'  mak'  the  grun' 
produce  a  single  ear  o'  corn,  or  a  koo  bring  forth  a  single 
call'  without  thy  ordering  !  Yet  thou  hast  gien  us  plenty  o1 
baith,  an'  mair  nor  that,  thou  hast  gi'en  us  this  e'cning, 
un'er  oor  roof,  what  we  hac  na'  had  for  near-ban'  thirty 
year,  a  vi.-itor,  an  Irishman's  son,  o'  oor  ain  kind,  frae 
Maughryiro\van.  Oh!  bless  him,  an'  bless  us  a',  so  that 
we  mav  be  nourished  by  this  temporal  food,  an'  also,  or  a' 
be  o\vre,  wi'  the  spiritual  food  o'  grace  an'  glory  in  heaven. 
Hut  thou  kens  better  what  tits  us  than  we  do  oorsels.  We 
therefore  lippon  every  thing  to-  thy  mercy,  whilk  we  ear 
nestly  pray  fur,  through  Christ  our  Redeemer.  Amen." 

Many  a  more  splendid  supper  than  Oilbert  Fra/.ier,  the 
only  cultivator  of  the  ground,  at  this  time-within,  perhaps,  a 
hundred  miles  of  him.  could  afford,  has  been  more  splendid 
ly  described  than  I  could  describe  it.  No  entertainment 
could,  therefore,  be  expected  from  a  middling  description  of 
what,  at  the  table  of  a  great  man,  would  scarcely  be  ac 
counted  a  middling  supper.  I  will,  therefore,  be  excused 
from  not.  entering  into  tedious  particulars  concerning  it.  I 
shall  merely  state,  that  at  the  one  end  of  the  table,  (the  end 
where,  our  hero  himself  was  stationed, 1  was  placed  an  ele- 
if:uit  roast  joint  of  the  fatted  calf  which  Archy  had  speedily 
sacrificed  for  this  joyful  occasion.  I'y  special  request, 
Ch-irle-;  had  undertaken  in  carve  .ind  distribute  this-  \vhii-h 


104  THL 

I  can  assure  any  gay  lady  or  gentleman,  who  wishes  lo  be 
informed  on  the  subject,  he  did  with  exceeding  good  grace 
and  gentility.  IVlrs.  Fnizier  and  her  son  Arch)  had  each 
under  their  jurisdiction  a  large  barn-door  fowl,  elegantly  and 
sumptuously  stuffed  with  the  most  sapid  and  agreeable  in 
gredients  the  good  hostess  could  command  :  the  very  smell 
of  which  when  opened  out  would,  in  lesr->  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  a  full  meal,  have  restored  to  original  vigor  and 
voracity,  the  appetite  of  any  hundred  thousand  pound  alder 
man  in  existence.  Gilbert  himself  had  charge  of  a  large 
dish  of  excellent  potatoes,  which  although  he  said  they  were 
as  gude  as  he  ever  could  raise  heie,  yet  were  naelhing  like 
the  rich,  laughing,  mellow,  an'  nieally  jeanar  hies  he  used  to 
raise  in  Maughrygowan.  Still  \vi'  a'  their  fau'ts,  they  were 
aye  a  favorite  dish  wi'  baith  him  an'  Kelly. 

\Vheii  a  reasonable  havoc  was  made  among  these  sub- 
stantials,  JMaria  and  Nancy  distributed  to  the  company  and 
to  themselves,  dainty  and  enticing  slices  of  apple  pies,  cus 
tards,  or  egg  puddings,  just  as  the  appetite  of  each  desired. 
After  the  disappearance  of  these,  Gilbert  returned  thanks, 
and  the  cloth  being  removed,  (for,  dear  reader,  Mrs.  Frazier 
had  several  table  cloths,)  he  produced  from  a  cupboard, 
which  was  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  a  bottle  of  brandy, 
and  soon  the  fragrant  and  inspiring  vapors  of  the  punch- 
pitcher  curled  swately  and  irately,  as  Peter  M'Fall  would 
have  said,  over  the  table,  which  was  now  lit  with  a  flaming 
candle  of  Gilbert's  own  manufacture. 

On  this  occasion  the  social  bowl  did  not  frighten  away 
the  ladies,  as  it  mostly  doea  within  the  circles  of  ultra  civili 
zation  and  high  refinement.  But  in  Gilbert  Frazier's  house 
the  superb  customs  of  the  Jiaiit  ton  were  unknown,  or  rather 
uncared  for;  and  as  no  excess  from  spirituous  liquors  was 
feared  by  the  ladies,  for  neither  Gilbert  nor  Archy  were 
drunkards,  and  they  had  no  reason  to  suppose  Charles  Ad- 
derly  one,  they  conceived  that  they  could  spend  the  evening 
as  comfortably  and  as  creditably  in  their  society  as  any 
where  else.  Nay,  they  did  not  disdain,  for  the  sake  o! 
complaisance  and  good  humor,  to  use  a  moderate  portion  of 
the  exhilarating  fluid  themselves,  and  to  pledge  in  its  social 
izing  draught  their  good  wishes  for  their  visitor's  health  and 


i  UK    u  n.m:KNK>-  .  1  IK) 

prosperity.      Hut  the  decree  of  their  complaisance,  I  can  as- 

the  world  of  sobriety,  was  both  as  moderate  and  modest 

-    the  most  riii'id  could  wish,  :inil  extended  no   fart'ier  than 

•  moM    precise-mannered    and    delicately-nerved    lady   in 
Cnristendom    miti'ht   have   carried   it,  without  risk  to  either 
h'T  reputation  or  her  morals. 

.Neither  did  the  gentlemen  indulge  too  heartily  in  the  use 
oi  the  fascinating  liquor.  They  only  drank  as  much  an 
leaded  to  dispel  vapors  and  enliven  conversation,  thereby 

•  owiiiif  themselves  to  he  real  men,  who>e  strength  of  reso 
lution    enabled    them    to    stop   at  any  assigned  point   in   the 
path    of   enjoyment.      But    we   must   confess   that,   although 

idies  only  tasted   a   little    for  the  sake  of  complaisance, 
;   't   the   "vntlomen  used  a  sufficiency  of  the  cordial   fluid   to 
lender   their   situation   comfortable?,   and    their   conversation 
free.      It    wa-;   now   that  (lilhert  communicated   to   Charles 
ihe  hisUH'v  of  his  life,  from    his    leaving  his   native   country 
iill  the  present  time,  excepting  that  passage.  \vhich  related  to 
Uaria';-  birth,      lie  explained,  at  the  same  time,  in  his  own 
icly  language,  the   feelings  that   the   passing  events   had 
xcited  in  his  mind.      In  return.  Charles  detailed  to  him  the 
istory  of  i!ie  expedition  that  he  had  lately  commanded,  its 
.p.foriunate  rc.-p.lt,  and  his  own   adventures  with,  and  provi 
dential  de'liverance  from  the   Indians.      Maria  listened  to  his 
recital    with    great    interest,  and   seemed    to   be    particularly 
iffected  with  his  hiur-breadih  escape.      She   hung  upon  his 
-torv  with    fervid   and    enthusiastic   intensity,  and  when  he 
i;.d  I'lii-hci!  she  could  not  help  exclaiming — 

*•  i  iappv,  happy  Tonnaleuka,  who  has  had  it  in  his  power 
;o  do  so  much  i/uod  !  ' 

"Heaven  bless  ye,  my  bairn,"  said  (Gilbert,  "for  that 
Lrude-heartei!  savin'  Oh!  Mr.  Adderly  !  <jin  Tonnaleuka 

•  •oidd  only  teach   the   Indians   humanity  te)  their  prisoners,  I 
'hmk  he  wad  be  amaist  as  jfreat  an'  usefu'  a  man  as  Moses, 
wh.t  tauch'  tii"  .lews  the  sixth  commandment,  "Thou  shall 
not  kill!"      (Jin  the  savages  only  knew  tint  commandment, 
md  leiared  to  break  if,   I'm    thiiikm'  I    miclit  soon  hae  white 
neighbors  plenty  roon    m;-,  and    may  be   some  Irish  families 
— an'    its   no'    likely  that    .Nejlv  an"    I    wad    then    break    oor 
,'ieirN  sue  muckle  about  Maufrhryijowai] 


100  VHi:    wiLni-: 

•'Alack  '."  cried  Nelly,  "bonny  Manghrygowan  will  ne'er 
be  oot  o'  my  head  gin  a'  the  Irish  in  America  were  to  settle 
beside  us.  Its  bonny  preen  meadows,  an'  its  hawthorn 
hedges,  wi'  their  sweet  smelling  blossoms,  an'  its  saft  dim- 
plin'  burns,  wi'  the  yellow  primroses  an'  speckled  daisies 
on  their  1  anks,  an'  the  sweet  pretty  larks  an'  the  thrushes 
an'  the  lads  an'  the  lasses,  an'  the  sports  of  a  simmer  even 
ing,  an'  the  jokes  an'  mirth  o'  a  lang  winter's  nicht-  ah  !  i 
cannot  think  o'  them  without  a  sair  heart — for — for  I'll  ne'er 
see  them  again  !" 

Here  Nelly's  heart  filled,  and  she  was  wiping  away  a  tear 
that  annoyed  her,  when  Gilbert  addressed  liei  — 

"  Dinna  fret — dinna  fret,  Nelly,  at.  misfortunes.  It  miclu 
hae  been  waur  wi'  us.  God  didna  forsake  us  a'tegither. 
We  are  aye  leevin'  examples  o'  his  gudeness.  an'  hae  cor 
weans  aboot  us.  We  hae  mony  comforts,  Nelly,  gin  we 
should  ne'er  see  Ireland  again.  Dinna  think  o't  noo — it 
maks  }e  greeve  owre  muekle." 

••  Ah  !  ye  may  bid  me  no  grieve,  gin  ye  like,"  replied 
Nelly — "but  dinna  Gilbert,  dinna  bid  me  no  think  o't,  for  1 
canna  obey  ye  in  that.  I  maun  aye  think  o't,  though  my 
heart  should  bleed  for't — though  it  should  break  for't,  a?  it's 
sometimes  like  to  do.  It  would  noo  please  me,  Gilbert,  to 
hear  Maria  sing  the  sang  she  learned  frae  ye.  an'  \\  hich  ye're 
sae  fond  to  hear  yeresel,  that  was  made  by  Tarn  Beggs,  om 
neighboor  on  the  Juniata,  whom  the  savages  burned  on  that 
awfu'  day  at  Catanyan.  He  made  it  on  leavin'  Larne,  aif 
I  ne'r  hear  it  but  it  does  my  heart  gude,  its  sae  melancholy, 
an'  it  shows  that  there  were  ither  folk  that  grieved  for  ither 
places  as  muckle  as  I  do  for  Maughrygowan.  An'  Marin 
aye  sings  it  so  sweetly,  that  it  makes  my  heart  baith  pleased 
and  sorrow  fu'.  Ah!  it's  a  warm-hearted,  comforting  sang?" 

"  Weel,  Nelly,"  observed  Gilbert,  "if  it  will  comfort  \c- 
ony  thing,  an'  Mr.  Adderly  has  nae  objection,  I'm  sure 
Maria  will  please  ye.  That  sang  aye  pleases  me,  though  i?. 
aye  mak's  me  mournfu'." 

Charles  signified  his  desire  to  hear  the  song,  and  Maria,, 
knowing  that  it  would  yield  satisfaction  to  both  her  father 
and  mother,  required  no  further  solicitation,  but  sang  as  fol 
lows,  with  a  voice,  every  tone  of  which  thrilled  through 


I  HI!      WI1.DKRM>S. 


Charles's  heart,  and  awakened  all  his  feel  inns  of  sympathy  , 

teiu.erness.  and  admiration:  — 


Oft  ;is  I  think  on  other  days, 

When  with  ;i  blithe  lii;lit  heart  I  rov'd, 
Those  haunts  which  loveix    Larne  surveys, 
Where  first  1  felt,  am!  first   1  lov'd  ; 
\\'hat  sorrows  pierce  my  bosom'*  core, 
Since  I  must  s  ^rli. 
F.irou  ell  to  jov  ! 
Ah  '    lovely   I.ar/ie  '    mus!   I  ne'er  pee,  ne'er  sen  thre  mor« 

By  Cumin's  shore  I  often  strav'il, 

Anil  scenes  of  purest  rapture  knew, 
When  there  I  met  the  sweetest  maid 

That  e\er  blest  a  Inker's  view; 

J'ut  all  !    those  joyful  scenes  aro  o'er, 

.lllil     1     HIM:.!     si'jil. 

Farewell  to  joy  ! 
Ah  !    lovely   Lame  !    must   I  ne'er  see.  ne'er  see  thee  mrvv 

Ky  Invfr's  hnnks,  so  green  an<l  L'av, 
1  jii.n'd  each  iittle  v,  a  rbler's  son^. 
Ami  tuned   to  love  the  blithesome  lav, 
The  fraixraiil  liawlhorji  shades  aiming. 
Fate  ne'er  can  scenes  liU('  these  restore, 
I'cir  1  iiiu:-t  sigh, 
.'•'are-,\  e'l   to  jo\   ! 
•\h  '    lovoiv  Larne  !    must  I  ne'er  see.  ne'er  «ee  thee  m,,i.-  .' 

Oh  !    mem'iy,  cease  '    it  irives  me  pain 

Such  reco!l(>ftioi;s  dear  to  wake; 
Vet   I   u  ill  think  them  o'er  a<_'ain, 

Although  my  torlnr'd  heart  should  bieak. 
N'es.  still  I'll  think,  and  still  deplore, 
How  1  must  si<:h, 
Kai  -e\\  ell   to  jov  ! 
All  !    lovel\    Larne  !    must  I   ne'er  see,  ne'er  see  thee  more  ? 

\\  lion  IMaria  liad  done  .sinking,  so  (hep  was  tho  impres 
sion  \vhich  her  melodious  voice  and  allecting  manner  liad 
made  upon  her  auditors,  tint  they  all,  lor  a  minute  or  two, 
snt  silent,  as  if  lor  the  purpose  of  prolonging  that  luxury  o! 
sorrow  which  she  had  thus  so  strongly  excited  in  their  bo 
soms.  At  length  .\  elly,  \\  hose  feelings  had  become  so  acute 
as  evidently  to  require  relief  from  weeping,  retired,  that  she 
mio'ht  indulge  her  jjrif  I  the  more  privately.  Her  daughters 


i  OS  1'HK     U  II.DKIi.NK^-i. 

M  ithdrew  also,  and  as  Charles  arose.  ID  hid  them  good-night, 

•;••  wa  -  irresistibly  impelled  to  say  to  Maria,  "  'l'h is  has  been 

my  happiest  ni<rht —  1  shall  never,  never  forget  it !''      ilt:  thru 

nself  as    it'  lie    felt   that   he   had   taken   too  much 

freedom,  and  resumed  his  seat  considerably  embarrassed, 
with  hi.-  eves  fixed  Meadilv  upon  the  door  through  which 
•she  had  passed,  as  if  still  beholding  the  love.lv  intake  that 
had  there  left  them. 

meditations  \vere  soon  interrupted  by  (Jilhert  ex- 
"  Poor  T;:m  l'r!^:j~!  his  story  was  a  moiimfn' 
Uut  "Tievin's  a  follv.  an'  we  maun  e'en  just  tak'  the 
as  it  comes — the  sw^et  wi'  the  Poor.  [  venee  ran 
M  the  i-auntlet  wi'  the,  savages  mvsei'.  That  was  na 
sure,  sac  bad  as  hein<r  burn;.  Uut  there's  ua  'jnde  in 
complainin' — what's  gane  past  is  lifme,  an'  eanna  !>e  Ixdp't. 
We'll  e'f^i.  Mr.  Idderly,  talk  o'  soiiiethiny  else,  an'  no' 
forment  oorsel's  this  way  wf  sorrow.  He  !;ae  :ia  seen  my 
-.1:1  I'aM.-iv  yet.  1  christened  him  for  oor  auld  Irish  saini — 
he's  a  throujrh-iraun  chap — winna  niin'  the  farm,  an'.-  :\wee 
o\vre  fand  o"  tlir.  drap  bv  times.  ">  o  hae  na  seen  him  yet, 
Mr.  Addcrly  ?" 

'•  \o."  replied  Charlps,  who  had  by  this  time  thrown  oli' 
his  reverie,  "no — but  1  have  understood  that  you  had  a  son 
:>!  that  name.'' 

"  Ay,  bnl  lie's  a  quite  different  chap  frae  Arehy.  lie's  a 
-mart  fellow,  sir.  an'  i  wee  eral'iv  in  his  disposition,  thai  is, 
when  he's  dealin'  \\pi'  the  Indians.  'I'm  no  p!ea-ed  at  it.  lor 
1  diuna  like  them  cunnino'  tricks,  it's  so  much  like  eheatery. 
Thonu'h  Faddy  winna  cheat  either,  I'll  no  say  that  o'  him — 
but  he'll  no'  :ne  the  Julians  fair  play  an'  he  can  help  it.  ile 
palms  on  them  shells,  an'  beads,  an'  brass  rinirs,  an'  ither 
th.iiil.rs.no'  \vorlh  a  bntton.  for  whilk  they  sometimes  oie 
!ii:n  !i:de  back-burdens  o'  skins  o1  musk-rat,  an'  beaver,  an' 
buffalo,  that  he  sells  to  the  traders  comin'  doou  the  river  for 
fifty  times  as  muckle  as  they  cost  him.  I  canna  think  it 
a'tPgither  fair — foriiye.  1  canna  sec  the  glide  o'  him  tradin' 
this  way.  I'm  sure  that  a'  the  skins  an'  trumpery  he  has 
gathered  te<jither  this  six  year  past,  wonldna  cret  us  a  com- 
fortahle  dinner  in  thir  woods,  I  kenna.  what  they're  cfiulo 
for  here,  but  to  look  it 


TIIK     Wl'LDF.HNESs.  109 

••  Father,"  observed  Arcliy,  \vlio  had  just  come  in  from 
disposing  of  the  cattle  for  the  night,  as  Gilbert  commenced 
I  his  complimentary  picture  of  Paddy's  character  and  em 
ployment,  "father.  I  maun  say  yon  speak  owre  hard  o' 
Paddy.  lie  disna  cheat  the  Indians  half  so  muckle  as  some 
o'  the  ither  traders.  They  aye  say  he  deals  lair,  though  lie 
inaks  hard  barirains  ;  but  the  men  that  come  doon  the  river 
often  cheat  them  ootricht.  The  jjentleman  mamma  think 
Paddy  sae  bad  a<?  ye  ca'  him.'" 

"1  liae  na  ca'd  him  a  downricht  cheat,  Archy;  I  canna 
think  that  badly  o'  him;  but  I  think  it  wad  be  a  mair  hon 
est  employment,  forbye  being  mair  usefu',  to  stick  by  the 
Ian',  an'  help  us  to  raise  something  that  we  can  eat  an' 
wear;  for,  atweel.  I  can  see  nae  glide  in%hem  wild  beast's 
-kins,  an'  bits  o'  olass,  an"  auld  brass  rings  that  he's  so  land 
o'.  They  can  neither  be  made  into  cakes  nor  puddiir, 
Archy:  air  as  to  wearin'  them — troth,  a  coal  o'  the  coarsest 
sacking  that  was  ever  made  into  a  beggar-man's  poke,  wad 
be  mair  comfortable.'' 

"  I  perceive,''  said  Charles,  "  that  it  is  not  with  your  ap 
probation  that  your  sou  has  devoted  himself  to  traffic  rather 
'ban  agriculture.  ]>ut  you  seem  to  get  on  with  the  latter 
tolerably  well  without  him;  and,  perhaps,  the  furs  you 
-peak  of  his  having  amas.-ed,  may  yet  turn  out  much  to  his 
benefit.  They  are  very  valuable  in  ihe  eastern  cities.  As 
lo  his  obtaining  them  lor  article.-  of  such  little  real  value,  if 
the  Indians  attach  an  imaginary  importance  to  these  articles, 
they  have  a  ri<rht  to  please  themselves,  as  much  ab  the  white 
people  have  to  attach  a  value  lo  gold  and  silver,  \\hi'-h  are 
in  themselves  as  intrinsically  useless  for  eithei  sustenance  or 
apparel,  as  any  of  the  trinkets  you  mention.  \our  >on 
cannot  he  said,  at  least  in  the  common  mcanint:  of  the 
word,  to  cheat  the  Indians,  when  lie  makes  them  such  a  re 
turn  for  their  imods  as  renders  them  content  to  part  with 
iheni." 

'•  It  may  be  sae,"  replied  ( !  ilbert,  "  I  dinna  dive  sae  deeply 
mto  silch  arguments  as  lo  ken  a'  ahoot  them  ;  but  I  aye 
think  that  Paddy  wad  hae  mair  ease  o'min',  an'  lieve  hap 
pier,  helpin'  us  here  on  the  farm,  than  in  riniiin'  after  the 
tail.>  o'  the  savages  to  spy  failles,  or  to  catch  a  chance  o'  a 


bargain.      Forb 
or   ither   la'    in   \v 
liim-c  i  '." 

"For  aught  i  know,"  oh.-' rved  Charles,  "  there  may  be 
some  danger  in  thai  icspec;,  especially -as  he  never  sees  any 
other  females  except  those  of  his  own  family.  A  trip  to  the 
eastward  might  remove  this  danger." 

-  I  hae  a(:cn  thonn'ht  sae,"  returned  (-Jilberi:  "an"  some- 
Limes  \vhan  L  think  o'  my  twa  boys.  1  canna  help  comparin" 
Miv-aT  Io  auld  ls;\ac.  \vi'  his  flsaii  an'  his  Jacob.  The  auld- 
e.-l  is  th •:•  F,saii,  'Mi'  ihe  voun;>;es!  is  ihe  .laco!)  ;  the  \  CM  willn' 
a1.;'  stubborn,  an'  :he  ither  obedieni  an'  gude-nalured ;  an  wi' 
respect  to  baiih,  I  aften  feel  as  if  I  could  apph  (o  my-el'  the 
words  of  Rebecca:  •[  am  weary  of  mv  life  because  of  i!:;p 
daughters  of  fleth  ;  if  Jacob  lake  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of 
Ileth.  such  as  the.-o  which  are.  the  daughters  of  the  Ian  '. 
what  irood  shall  my  life  do  me  '.''  ' 

"An'  what  wad  ye  hae  veil  to  do,"  said  Archv,  who  ie't 
himself  interested  in  the  cause  of  his  father's  uneasiness. 
"  \\  hat  wad  ye  hae  yen  to  do,  whar'  there  are  na  ither 
women  to  be  had.'  Ye  wad  na  surely  a -de  yen  to  lee\e  a' 
ins  days  ivithoot  a  Wife  ?" 

"  it's  a  hard  matter,  1  acknowledge,"  said  his  father;  "an" 
gin  I  could  spare  ye,  Archy,  I  wad  send  ye,  wi'  my  blessing, 
owre  ihe  mountains  eastward,  as  Isaac  did  Jacob,  to  get  a 
wile  ainang  the  daughters  o'  yere  ain  kind." 

"But  wad  it  no'  he  mi  si  thimr  to  impossible,"  said 
Archy,  "to  coax  ony  o'  them  white  lasses  at  the  ither  side 
o'  the  mountains,  to  come  hack  here  to  lieve  in  thir  savage 
woods  ?  An'  ye  ken,  father,  ye  wad  na  be  pleased  gin  1 
staid  awa  frae  ye  a'tes'ither.  Trouth.I  canna'  tell  weel  hoo 
ye  could  work  the  Ian',  and  mind  things  ri:;ht  withoot  me, 
noo  when  ye're  getting  auld,  an'  hae  sae  muckle  niair  clear 
ed  than  ye  had  no  mony  years  a^'o.  1  think,  Mr.  Adderly," 
said  lie,  turning  to  Charles,  "  thai  it  wad  be  better  for  the 
auld  man  that  I  should  bide  wi'  him,  an'  gin  1  should  lak'  a 
fancy  to  marry,  to  iak'  a  squaw,  than  gang  twa  or  three  hun 
dred  miles  owre  the  Allegheny  mountains,  for  a  wife,  or  else 
ha  nane  ava.  Want,  ya  ken,  is  an  unco  bare  word,  sir." 

Charles    acknowledged    thai  th'1  dilemma  was  rather   ol    a 


jurplcxino  nature1.  All  ho  conic!  counsel  him  to,  was  to 
ta\  uith  his  lather,  and  have:  patience;  as  fortune,  by  sonic 
unforeseen  occurrence,  might  throw  a  white  woman  in  his 
ivay  :  in  which  cane,  if  he  were  too  hastily  to  unite  himself 
with  a  squaw,  lie  might  feel  inclined  to  regret  his  precipi- 
lancy. 

"(_)h!  sir,"  said  Archy,  "I'm  na  just  vet  sae  madrife  for 
a  wife  as  that  comes  to.  I'm  no'  just  gaun  to  marry  the  first 
Indian  woman  I  meet  wi'.  I'm  thinking  that  I'll  ;,ne  fortune 
the  opportunity  o'  half  a  dozen  years  yet  to  bring  me  a  white 
wife;  after  that,  I  think  the  auld  man  canna  say  rnuckle  £\n 
1  should  bring  a  red  daughter-in-law  hen  the  hoosetohim." 

"Guid  forbid!  Guid  forbid!  ye  should  do  sae,  Archy!" 
exclaimed  Gilbert,  shaking  his  hand,  "Hut  we'll  no' talk  mair 
ahoot  it  noo.  Gin  ye  only  keep  your  word,  an'  pie  us  six 
ve.trs  to  come  an'  no  on,  I  doot  na  but  Providence  will  con 
sider  your  case,  and  provide  some  yen  for  you  that  we  rnav 
a'  like,  before  that  time.  Mut  as  to  Paddy,  I  dinna  ken  hut 
it  wad  lie  wiser  in  me. — " 

Here  Gilbert  was  interrupted  by  the  door  opening  without, 
ceremony,  and  Paddy  hin'self  entered,  and  Gilbert,  in  a  kind 
of  continuation  of  his  discourse,  addressed  him:  "An'  there- 
ye  are,  my  lad.  We  were  just  talking  o'  ye,  an'  I  was  tell- 
inu  this  frien'  o'  mine. —  Paddy,  ye  maun  ken  that's  a  frien' 
o'  mine,  a  sin  o'  mv  auld  acquaintance,  Tharrias  Adderly,  the 
young  squ're,  o'  .M'-Hi^hrygown.  Ye  didna  ken  the  squire- 
Paddy,  but  your  rnither  kenned  thorn  a'  weel  ;  an'  sair  grat 
this  vera  nicht  wi'  joy  to  see  'he  sin  o'  her  aulu  frien'  un'er 
her  rooi'  in  this  wild  wilderness." 

Paddy  had  by  this  time  approached  Charles,  and  cordially 
.-h.-'ked  him  by  the  hand,  expressing  great  pleasure  to  see  him 
here  so  far  safe  from  the  savages. 

This  younu'  man  was  rather  below  the  middle  si/e,  and  of 
•i  slender,  but  very  linn  make-,  indicating  great  agility  and  en 
durance  of  fatigue,  ralhcr  than  muscular  strength.  He  was 
not,  however,  deficient  in  the  ialle.r  respect,  hi--  want  of  sufli 
eient  weight  alone  prcvrninig  him  from  being  remarkably 
powerful.  1 1  is  countenance  was  keen,  smart  and  intelligent; 
expre.-sive,  however,  of  ingenuity  rather  than  deep  thought, 
and  of  cunning  rather  than  caution.  He  was  slightly  pock- 


112  unc     WILDERNESS, 

pitted,  and  so  much  sun-burnt  as  to  be  almost  of  that  Indiau 
hue  which  he  sometimes  affected,  when  he  wished  to  flatter 
the  native  tribe?.  lie  also  often  dressed  in  their  fashion,  and 
on  such  occasions,  as  lie  had  learned  several  of  their  lan 
guages,  and  spoke  them  fluently,  he  could  not  easily  be  dis 
tinguished  from  any  of  his  red  brethren.  He  had  been  pre 
sent,  as  a  spectator,  at  the  Chippeway  council,  which  had  so 
nearly  sacrificed  Charles,  in  his  Indian  costume,  on  which 
account,  as  his  dress  was  now  more  of  a  Emopean  than  of 
an  Indian  fashion,  he  was  not  recognised  by  Charles,  who 
had  not,  indeed,  paid  much  attention  on  that  occasion,  to  the 
appearance  of  the  individuals  forming  the  mass  of  the  assem 
bly.  He  was  at  this  time  attired  in  a  rudely  formed  white 
flannel  jacket,  or  rather  long  vest,  with  sleeves  attached  to 
it,  being  put  on  in  the  manner  of  a  shirt,  with  that  part  of 
the  front,  usually  permitted  to  open,  tied  with  tapes.  A  pair 
of  long  canvass  drawers  came  up  to  his  waist,  round  which, 
outside  of  his  vest  or  shirt,  they  were  bound  with  leather 
thongs,  instead  of  buttons,  and  kept  in  their  place  by  a  broad 
leathern  strap  carried  over  each  shoulder  in  a  crossing  direc 
tion,  like  modern  suspenders.  The  common  Indian  gaiters, 
and  moccasins  of  half  tanned  deer  skin,  and  a  bear  skin  cap, 
constituted  the  residue  of  his  dress,  which,  from  its  light 
ness  and  freedom  from  every  kind  of  incumbrance  upon  his 
motions,  was  well  adapted  to  the  exenti.se  of  that  swiftness 
and  dexterity  in  scouring  the  woods,  for  which,  habit,  and 
a  healthy,  sinewy,  and  buoyant  frame,  had  rendered  him 
remarkable,  even  amon<r  the  wild  sons  of  the  forest. 

When  he  first  entered  the  room  he  had  a  musket  in  his 
hand,  and  a  long  knife  of  the  dagger  form,  tor  bleeding  any 
animal  he  might  shoot  on  his  excursions,  in  a  leathern 
sheath  at  his  left  side,  which  sheath  was  suspended  from  a 
belt  that  crossed  his  right  shoulder.  On  perceiving  Charles, 
without  paying  any  attention  whatever  to  the  address  of 
his  father,  before  given,  he  hastily  deposited  his  gun  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  and,  with  an  air  of  recognition,  saluted 
him  with  the  cordial  expression  of  satisfaction  for  his  safety, 
we  have  mentioned,  adding,  at  the  same  time,  "  But  1  am 
sorry  that  you  li.ive  met  with  so  rude  and  uncivil  a  recep 
tion  in  our  countrv.5' 


!  Hi.     \\  ILUKKM>.-,,  i  l;i 

11  In  thai  respect,"  rejiiied  Charles,  "it  is  a  question 
•\heiher  1  oiiidit  to  complain  or  rejoice  :  for,  since  coming 
o  \our  Wilderness,  I  have  met  with  the  extremes  both  oi 
kindness  and  hatred — happiness  and  misery." 

••Then  you  have  me!  with  all  that  life  can  give  you,  since 
\  on  came  amono  us,"  observed  I'addv.  "  Hut  i  think  you 
have  purchased  your  pleasure,  whatever  it  mar  have  been, 
dear,  bv  the  suilcriiiffs  you  have  paid  for  it." 

••  Hut  !.  perhaps,  enjoy  it  the  more  sensibly  on  that  ac 
count,"  returned  (.-hnrles;  "and  I  do  not  know  if  I  can 
::Tud'fe  the  personal  hard-hips  and  trials  1  have  sustained 
from  '.lie  Indians,  since  they  have  been  the  means  of  pro 
curing  me  the  happiness  your  father's  house  has  this  niii'ht 
afforded  me." 

"  !i  was  but  a  sma"  lhin:>;  we  could  do  to  make  you  com- 
brtable,"  s;  id  (Jdbert.  "Could  we  do  mair,  T  wad  be  glad 
o't  ;  for  the  very  sicht  o'  ye,  sae  Christianlike,  sac  like 
oorsel's,  and  o"  oor  ai.n  kind,  h.as  made  us  a'  blither  an*  hap 
pier  nor  we  hae  been  for  mony  a  year." 

-  Mr.  Adderly,"  observed  IV.ddy,  "you  have  (rained  one 
:ri<  nd  by  your  misfortunes,  for  whom  it  was,  indeed,  worth 
\\hile  to  endure  something — 1  mean  Tonnalenka — although, 
I  confess,  1  should  be  very  loath  to  undergo  what  von  did 
even  for  such  an  acquisition." 

••To  have  acquired  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  thai 
o-ood  and  wonderful  man,"  replied  Charles,  '•  might  itself 
ha\e  been  suilicienl  remuneration  for  my  suti'erings  ;  bm 
Providence  has  added  to  satisfaction  others  that" — ^here 
he  checked  himsell,  and  hesitlard  lor  a  moment  ;  then  con 
tinued) '•  thai  providence  has  shown  me  in  this  house  io- 
niidi!,  lha!  virine  can  secure  to  herse|[  happiness,  even  in  a 
•  \\  ilderness,'  amidst  savages;  and  henceforth  I  resolxe  io 
keep  ill  her  paths,  so  far  as  1  know  them,  in  despite  of  all 
iein p'a lions  io  ibv  coirrarv.  Is  no!  the  arriving  at  such  a 
wordi  all  !  have  ,  n  lur  !  '." 

••  I    ha\ c    no   means   o|       ,  :  ri:i':   the  benefits  of 

-aich  a    resolution   \\rdi   the    evils    you    have  undergone,"   e.:- 
served    I'addv  ;    "lor    I     do    no!    undersaind    the    matter   sul- 
liciend\.       Hut  ihi-i  I   know,   dial    I    yeslerdav  saw  \~ou  in  a 
predicament.  Io  a"'1'  out  oi    \\lueh   I    would   have  thought    von 
I  I 


ilir.      tt  It! 'I    •'• 

excusable,  in  committing  an\  .-in.  ai;ii<,U!ji!    1   contest! 

better  pleased  r<>  see  you  escape  by    a   miracle;   and    I  onlv 

wish  that  in  even  scrape  of  llie  kind  \  ou  ma\  jail  into,  you 

mav  be  so  fortunate.      To  be  sure,  you    have   watchful   and 

powerful   fric.-iui    in  •  man   i-an 

vou  i'rom  imiian  violence,  it  is  he.      But  he  cannot  do  even 

thina' ;   and,  to  be  plain  with  vou.  for  it  is  oni  i    ;  \  da; 

that  he  desired  me  to  be  so,  then 

Jion  into  which  you  may  yet  fall,  if  vou  be  nol  circun 

Vour    arch-e.'iemv,    Carrawoona, 

vowed  either  to  sacrifice  himself  or   you,  and    i<.  at  th 

sent  time,  ranging  ;iie  woods,  like  a  wild  and  iufu 

mal.  in  scorch   oi    you. 

while,    hou  G\  er  ;    :  i   belie'  e   that    tie 

prophet  will  manage  ma 

will  take  the  wronii-  direction  in  pursui 

"Surely,"  observed  Charles,  ••  i  need  not  be  under 
apprehension  from  ilie  hostility  of  a  sin 
relinquished  their  claim  upu.i  me,  and  he  will  scarcely 
to  desirov  what  it  was  their  pleasure  to  spare." 

'•  lie  has  sworn  your  destruction,"  said  Paddy,  ••  and  l,i 
tribe  have  abandoned  any  further   concern    in   the    busi 
The  contest  is  now  between    vou  and    him.  and    (iod   u'ra.n 
the  nu'ii;  side  Lo  be  succc'ssful,  sav  I.  winch    is  a    \vi--ii  alto 
gether  at  \  our  SCIM  ice/ 

••   ,\  ith  arms  1:1  nr-.   hanii.  aiivl  a  v/atciilul  i 
1  think."  said  Charles,  ••  if  the  com*  si  be  onlv  be:wer-n  Inn 
me,  i  f.      He  cannot    be  more  terri 

fi«'ht  than  his  son." 

••  lie    is   noi.    perhaps.       •  rrible,"    rejoined     I' 

'•but  he  is  more  treacherous;   and  who   knows  bin  li. 
seduce  some  of  the  : 

many   oi    them   in    this    r  >in    his    canst1.      II 

would  ha\e  had   h:df  ;:    dozen    al'ier    \  ou   from    Sliair 
town,  but    tor  the   iimelv    interference  of  Tonnaleuka, 
represented  to  the  warrmrs  ili;;;  \ on  Averr  uu(h-r  the  :• 
(ion   ol    the    (Jreal    Sj;;r!t.  who    had    denonncrd    vonvreaii' 
air.iiiist  anv  one  who  would  harm  you." 

••1  tear   much,"  said   Charles,  "thai  the   prophrfs   ^en. 
roiis  /eal  in  mv  behal'' will  excite    tliis  rancorou^  savnw    '• 


i.  i       n  ILDEKNESsi.  !  1  .1 

Hi.  which  would  in"  tn  the  world  n  inucli  <j-.-i 

'  ••    •:     -'i  '.'"•'.    '  mid     UT.'e\  ' 

I    -vd- 

i i    111::!!. 
atain  to  ill 

'   he  Iii'l"(l  :\<j;\  insl   hiin,  and   I1  is  name  and 
••':>"'',  <•;•  !:••!'  i-  1 1!  •  tho  cneim 

I'.'ity." 

.  ••  i  ••,  ill  i;  •  r  mi 
* 

•'•  "."  said   Paddv.  \vlio  had  learned   a  mini 
on;!]-'  Ironi   liiei  \vhite    tra  1  •  :'.-:  lit-  !iad  so  I re- 
li  ;ch,  vvlicn    he   wish<  d    :  • 

:  :-p'.  1  i:'  lirit, 

iwooilii    m  \  sell,  il    he   pur- 

;;  'Lif liborhood,  \\'h-',-e    i  !;iio\\-  ovcry  loo!  of 

ninrnd  times  hc'lter  than  either    he    or  any 

. .'d    li'iiii  (or    iii.-f'   friendly  iiiieni;ons,  ol>sorv- 

n     .  ••  \\  ri:  such    [irotcctors   as    von    MM!    Tonnalonka,   '  d<> 

ii'      S;T    \\h\    !    should    Mpprchriid    iinytfiinu   t'roni    a  sav.iffc, 

in    taken    nna\varcs,  or  mi  i  >repa  red. 

e :    i  1 1 !  i  me    1 1 1 1  1 1 1 1 1  iry . " 

••  i';!(!d\-  !  ye  please  me  non."  said  (iillieri  ;    "  1  ayn    ken- 

ii'  d    \  e  had  sunie  spunk  in  ye.  thouifh  ye  ne\'(jr  made  a  o-ude 

\\'irker  on  die  l.in'.       !    ih'Mio-lil    \~e  \\i",-e  earned.  a\va"  o\\"(>r 

n    u-kle   \vi'  ii1.'1  Indians,  hi;;   !   sre    ye    hac  nature  in    ye.  an' 

am    \iiid.  \\  hi-n    liie    pineh    eome<. 

'•  ;th  !   Andi\   '.  you  an'   !    loo  maim    hae  an  e'c  10    lids  mat- 
'•    .       \\  e  maima  sii  siill.an"  set1    a    M;ni<i-lirv<ro\vn   man    ill- 

amano'  us.       \a.  na  ;    |'e«_>-s  !  dial   \vadna    he  natni'al." 
\reli-.    ha \inii1   assented    to  die    pn'.iinH v  ol     ilns   opinion, 
a    d   <  '\\:>:-\,'<  •  '  is    thaid.s     •  •    kindm- 

.[>:1,  •        •  !       VV;IS    |,.-(.||N     |;,r  ;,(!- 

\       a-'  ••,;.   ; .  •  id    |  ,p  .  1 1  .        (  i  d!>ei'l     \  ielded    ti) 

I  roposal.  ahhoii^li,    !:"    said,   he   \\'oid'l   hae  lieen  '.dad    lo 

he  cracked  an  'oor  or   t\va  lander   \vi'  his    Maucdirvmnvun 


ill!,      \\  iLJii.KN  KSS. 


]   :-(  -  fees, 

1  ! 
.liiii  \\  lini  ;i.  v.  P;U  \  v.  .  ise, 

]';iiii.  fain  would   i  ii!\   griefs  anjKirl, 
Yc-t  i  " 

liu;   srcr<  t  ••    •  mv  IjOitl't.' 

1:'  J  ( 


A  i/n;or(;ii  Charles'  frame  had  need  enough  of  report. 
his  mind  liad  lot)  many  objects  of  contemplation  io  <l\vcii 
nptiu  aiH'!1  lie  liad  retin  d  for  ii;e  iii^iil.  to  permi;  liiin  for  ;: 
loiiii'  Uiiie  io  ('Ujoy  it.  'j'herc  was  one  ol>|er<,  in  jiarticular. 
that  soon  s\vaiio\\!(!  up  llie  rest,  and  en^ros.-rd  ever)  l';u:iil- 
1v  (ji  his  mind,  and  even  1'eeiin^  of  his  b.eart.  so  entirely 


\\  hut  was  this  o:>j(  c;  •  A\  as  it  ihe  suddc'ii  and  enthusiastic 
friendship  of  his  jiood.  lios!  am!  hostess,  and  ihe  singular  and 
unexpected  state  of  doir,es;ie  eond'ort  in  wliich  lie  ibnnd 
them'.'  ?so.  A\  a.s  it  the  extraordinary  :uid  almost  super 
human  chiiracter  and  cuiuluct  of  the  benevolent  Tonna^eu- 
ka  .'  rso.  "\\  as  it  his  own  miraculous  deliverance  from  an 
apparently  inevitable  fate  .'  ,\o.  AVas  it  the  unforluiuiie 
issue  of  ihe  expedition  he:  had  commanded  .'  ?so.  A\  as  it 
the  persecution  and  perils  he  was  likelv  to  sustain  from  ihe 
inveterate  -malignancy  of  (,'arawoona.'  INo.  It  was  some 
thing  that  had  a  more  immediate,  more  uncontrollable  inihi- 


I  Hi      \\  11.1)1 


•  /. !<T  was  ;ins 

.'.'!'••  ,   \vli  ie.li   he  :  IH  I'.hMii   he  had 

''•hanihiQ1 

iiei1  -.  oice   and 

i  n!c  resting    niaii'!esia: 

•C  ]  •          ieii!  in  her  lirsl   reeepuon  ol  him  : 

1   It'll  I    o|    her   \\'hol!'   de- 

lortinen!  and  lion  ;    no;    the  l;m:i  and  generous 

I  in  1  not.  one    oi 

•en  rapa- 

inpre.ssion  th;il  w;is  no\v  made 
,  1 1  en  co    ''it 

-  ;:>!led 

these 
led    in 
•rness, 
mi  .  ' 

:  : I  i:o\\"  id  orpoworod 

c  1  i  o  IIP  ,  h  is 

.  ;hat    had 

-   ent 

-suh- 
ords 

ess,"' 


•    rondtuMfd 

:    lid 

:    'i  . 

.   indeed, 
he  i-ne 

it  is  !;;.:.  .      ii  is 

fatli;                                                                  .  ;st:s. 

i1).!;  he  \vas  yoiino-  and     ••  irnimc.  an 

rh;it  h'1  had  some    i<:\'^\\ uJ-<    0:1  u  Iiioh  t..»    i  .                           \'-<. 


1  I  H  Tin:    u  n.!)i:i;\  KSS. 


could  be  engaged.  She  was  vet  very  \onni;.  and.  oxci  pt 
the  Indian  traders,  to  none  "i'  whom  il  was  !ikelv  that  she 
could  heroine  attached,  then-  was  no  white  man.  hi;  had 
reason  u»  presume,  had  e\er  seen,  much  less  solicited  this 
captivating  daughter  of  the  A\  ilderness. 

"Shall  1  declare  myself?"  thought  he.  "  Shall  1  tell  her 
lio\v  much  I  love  her  !  how  I  cannot  he  happv  without  her.' 
Shall  i  do  so  to-morrow  .'  Ah:  I  'car  it  would  ho  impru 
dent.  I  am  yel  too  much  a  stranger  to  her.  Such  preeipi- 
tancv  :  nn  her  delicarv,  and  rouse  her  pride  to  op- 

po.se  me.  j  musl  act  with  eaulici:.  ii'  .1  me;::i  to  ^ain  such 
excellence.  Jirr  understanding  nuist  I;e  convinced,  that  I 
am  not  unworihv  of  her.  ( )h  !  it'  i  could  '  onlv  nain  some 
interest  in  her  heart.  But  time,  and  time  onlv,  can  eii'i  ct 
these  things.  J  must  have  patience!  1  \vish  Toimaleiika 
\vere  here.  i  Mill  tell  him  how  1  i'eel.  His  wisdom  will 
advise  me  how  to  art:  and  perhaps  his  friendship  may  suc 
cessfully  plead  lor  me.  if  my  own  suit  lie  rejected  :  tor  she 
reveres  him  as  a  father,  and  will  attend  to  his  counsel.  I 
will  wait  the  rominir  of  Tomi:'.leuka."' 

AVith  this  irsohuion.  whether  wise  or  foolish  the  reader 
may  decide,  formed  in  his  mind,  after  about  three  hour's  ac 
tive  meditation,  Charles  at  last  resigned  himself  to  sleep, 
in  which  lie  spent  about  three  hours  more,  very  deliciouslv 
dreaming  of  Aiana,  love,  and  happiness. 

Some  of  our  sympathising  readers  will,  perhaps,  wish,  to 
know  how  .Maria  felt  on  this  eventful  night,  towards  by  far 
the  most  inlerestin<_r  yr:un<r  man  she  Irad  ever  seen,  and  upon 
whose  heart  he,  charms  had  made  such  an  indelible  impres 
sion.  But  as  1  never  con.-idered  it  proper  to  enquire  mi 
nutely  into  the  feelings  of  yonnsj  ladies  on  such  occasion--, 
1  cannot  wive  the  exact  chain  of  thoughts  that  passed  through 


her  mind,  although  ]  have  ascertained  that  their  tenor  was 
something  even  more  than  favorable  towards  Charles. 

••And  was  it  this  noble  youth,''  she  would  say  to  herself, 
"  that  the  hard-hearted  savages  were  about  committing  to  the 
flames.'  Oh.  happy  Tonneleuka!  I  shall  love  you,  I  shall  re 
vere  vou  more  than  I  ever  yet  did,  since  yon  were  blessed 
instrument,  in  the  hands  of  (iod,  to  save  him.  Oh!  may 
heaven  still  irrant  him  protection  from  that  barbarous  enemy 
who  seeks  his  destruction! — Ah!  if  he  were  destroyed  now, 
in  the  bloom  and  fervor  of  youth,  what  an  ornament  to  his 
species  would  be  cut  oil'  from  the  world!" 

But.  as  1  have  already  said,  1  know  not  the  exact  chain  of 
Maria's  reflections  on  this  occasion,  I  shall  not,  therefore, 
follow  them  further.  I  have  Driven  a  few  of  them  only,  to 
show  the  temper  and  feeling  with  which  they  were  con 
ceived,  not  the  form  or  manner  in  which  they  arose.  But 
1  have  another  view  in  refraining  to  detail  Maria's  thoughts 
on  the  first  mirht  that  she  beheld  her  lover,  even  if  I  could 
do  it  in  a  regular  and  connected  series,  u  hicii  is.  my  wish 
to  acquire  the  reader's  iavor  by  leaving  him  something  on 
which  to  exercise  his  own  imagination. 

The  whole  of  the  ensuing  dav  was  spent  by  Charles  Ad- 
derlv.  in  the  nianm  r  of  alt  others  the  most  delightful  to  a 
\  out  hi  id  lover,  in  looking  at  and  listening  to  the  mistress  ol  his 
heart.  It  was  ;;  dav  a !:O;M-I her  unebequered  by  any  inci 
dent  (-1  importance  enough  to  claim  a  place  in  this  narrative. 
It  passed  on  in  the  calm  enm\  incut  ol  domestic  and  social 
happiness;  or.  if  it  be  thou'.:b'  that  the  happiness  deri.ed 
bv  Charles  from  the  presence  of  his  Maria,  was  something 
dillerent,  perhaps  superior,  to  this.  Mian  the  appellation  ol 
<  innnnri  i!  /'./;>//;/  may  snii  it  better.  in  beholding  and 
eon\  ersiiitr  with  Maria,  the  world  and  all  its  concerns  were 
foro-oiten.  or  onl\  so  far  rem<  inhered  as  to  occasion  a  com 
parison  \\hich  added  a  higher  relish  >o  his  present  happi 
ness.  !l.  during  the  preceding  e\eniii"',  the  chains  o!  love 
were  prepa n  d  a :id  ihro\\n  around  his  heart,  they  were  now 
riveted  there.  ne\er  to  be  taken  oil':  and  so  delighted  was 
be  with  these  chains,  thai  he  would  noi  ha\e  <  \ch allied 
th(-m  for  kinir  (ieor^e's  crown.  Although  b.e  wa:-  afraid  to 


.  whom 


Tov  i:'  I 

as  li."  walked  ai  haul.  •         nv  witli 

lliems 

oi'  all 

• 

,g    cil- 

. 

,-on   (• 
uroun 

mi;: 

licsp 


\nLDEilNEaS. 

:':••(•.      But    in    the   civili/ed  world,  you    inusi    have 

•  hesc 

i     i    child    ni'   the    forest.       It  would,  therefore.  !>•: 
i  i ;i  me  \n  oiler  you  Tonnaleuka 
\  en  mention." 

"In  the   eivili/ed  \\nrlii.  as    von   are    pleased    to   call    it," 

-.  ••  there  nvc  ;  .  .        of  natur'1  which 

annot   be  studied  so  well  as  in  the  desert  ;    and  such  of  the 

forest  as  have  iiujuirhii!-   minds,  frequently  dis- 

-  in)-  \\  hich   tin-   drudges    ol'  :  ci(  nee  ol 

1  doubt  not.  hut  llic  most  learned  (>i   our   philoso- 

i's    \vnuld    iind    'i'(i!i!ia!cuka    caj'.a'pl-.-    of    teaching    :'i   in 

-.  osj)cciall\'  on    ahslract    and    uic:a.  [)h\  sical    suh- 

'cts,  which   i';(ju;re  not  the   proof  of  experiment,  !mt    «;nly 

.~  of  nature,  for  iheir  elucidation.      As  fo-  nr\'- 

,  rbud   to   learn  from  Tonnaleuka,  ;ind 

1\\  (\\  s  (!•.  li^ht.-d.  ah  :   more   than   delighted!   to   rcci.'ive   his 

f )  U . " 

••  li    mav  I).1  so,  sir,"  replie,!  .Maria;    --sine"  vou  sav   it,  I 

nisi  believe   i:.      But    in   this   instance,  as    !    am   convinced 

•     ..         :  :i;ted   b \-  li'c'itinu'  '.our  lesson  from  its 

ce,  1  will    not    deprive    you    of  that  benefit,  by 

tn;^  M  at  second  hand." 

"Forgive    me,    Maria,"    said    Charles,  somewhat   startled 

t   this    replv,  "il'  m\'  assertinii'  the  truth  has  ^i\en   oll'ence. 

,e    me.  I    sjioke   seriously,  and  not   \\i;h  the  least  view 

it  compliment,  \\liMi  1  mentioned   the  delight  vonr  commu- 

licaiin^  'I'onnah.  ul-.a"s  doctrines  would  :.n\e  me." 

••  \  mi  mistake  me.  sir,"  n  plied  Maria:  ••  \  on  lia  •,  e  <j\\  en 
10  oii'ejice.  Un!  do  \dii  suppose  1  shall  be  so  presumptii- 
nis  as  to  turn  \'our  insiructor  .'  What  a  reilection  it  would 
'('  iijion  the  learned  proli-ssni's  of  Duhlin  enlle^e.  if  a  sim- 
:;ii'l.  'torn  and  bred  in  the  wilds  of  America,  should  he 
mind  ieachiun-  ;i  pupil  upon  whom  they  no  doubt  expended 

ii  n-  lore  !" 

••  I  hen-  \  mi  fur  mercy,"  said  Charles.  ••  lie  not  so  severe 
with  me.  \\  hat  tho:  c  men  taught  me.  miL'hl  be  ol  sen  ice 
io  me  m  the  ranks  ol  sm  letv  ;  but  here,  I  acknowledge — 
here,  m  the  midst  ol  sublime  and  heautilul  nature,  it  sinks 

Mill'    lllS|o-|||||c;nice ;;|jd    1 1  e  T;  ' .  1 1  e' I  \  ( '  II    kllo\\S,l     liel    happier. 


ami  would   in-  j]  .  .          j  ;,ou 

••' -\  ih: 
;;nd  all 

' 
• 

nor  ill 

have  this  m 

;  dncsis  to    return    t-.  >  i    ever   di  me  a? 

so  very  di 

••  1   meai 

•'•  .  ;uid 

.    100,    pOV. 

arc  in. 

JlieiUS  0      i\\0 

a  !  I  do  [ervalue  me 

jovs  o!'  society — but  i  value  ;  e  !  led  far 

more  acutely. 

'•  1  nin  a'lad  thai  .Mr.  Adderly  is  so  happy  with  us.''  ob 
served  Nancy,  "  bui  !  cannot  <jue«s  wbai  has  ina.'h1  biin  so. 
It  surely  cannol  ';onny  blue  mist  that's  IIOM'  around 

us.  ciii'liii'r  over  the  tops  •  cs  like  smoke  rising'  from 

the  buniiiii!'  ot'  In'usbv.'i- 

"?so,"  said  Mad;:.  r;i!ii!ini)f,  '•!  think  not;  neither  our 
fogs,  nor  our  withered  leaves,  nor  any  oilier  feature  of  our 
ruulseape,  nor  yet  iho  gcnih'.  reception  that  our  native  tribes 
have  ofhen  him,  could  have  been  the  strangely  attractive 
cause  that,  has  bound  his  i'ancy  so  strong  to  these  uucultureil 
M'ilds.  1  ratlier  imainnc  that  !Mr.  Adderly  'I  to  a 

certain  complaint,  with  \\hicli  1  have  heani  'J'onnaleuka  say 
lliat  younof  tra\ cll-'i's  and  voiiiu'  poets  were  oi'ien  atllicted. 
lie  called  it  the  hyperbole,  which,  he  said,  in  Knirli-h 
mean*  '  overstrainiiiir.'  Not.  ]\]  r.  Adderl\  ."  said  Maria, 
^omewhnt  raisin<r  her  voir-e,  to  clu'ck  a.n  attempt  which 
(Diaries  was  here  making  to  speak,  at  the  same  time  sweet 
ly  smiling  in  ID'S  face,  so  as  to  keep  him  in  pood  humor — 


••not,  M;.    idderly,  diai    \  on  have  wilfulK  .  or  e\en  knou- 
v,  ('alien    :,:  ^  our   judgment    ;uid   your 

candor,  \  .    •  nit  your  imay  'laiion — !    hen- 

your  pardon,  sir,  s  iboul  il .' 

••  \h  !   tun  '  '  ig   whether 

in1  oiiidit  to  ;;  :  " .  (i  widi  her  observations; 

••;'';i    me    whe'diei-    you    reallv  think  me   niad.  f;>r   you    liail' 
:;>  do  so — :  •;':::      vou  oi  ring  i1;:1  '" 

"  Think  j  -    -  .1   admit    i' 

is  lik  vou  \vere  ;.;   d.  it  ini;;hi  be 

.•-"HIS  lo  banier 

vou.      ^><>.  no;    i    sliall    -i^x';  madman,  unless    I 

. :uul  nivs;.1!!'.      t$n;,  i;i    sober  earnestness,  si;-,  \ 

do  in  you  nrid — !    0  'd.       Bui.  per- 

;•   you  ci  non  to  ba  so." 

••  i   !'•  i         i  <  Mmrles  :    ';  for  really  :;'  1  lia\'e  oi- 

I'cndcd  bv  expressing' the  sen-;'   '•  m\   juvsrn!  h;:[)pi- 

jicss,  !    liavc    sureh    i">eea   <•  t'iiou.^b.      !>ut  no,"  he 

added  ;"  even  this  aent  is  h;i 

••  Whal,"  said  Maria,  ••  lin  !      liui  I  set    }  on 

incurable,    sir.      1  \vi!l    have  don:'  \\iiii    you,  and   leave1 

xo'i  to  your  malady.     Si;  lr'.  m-  return  home,  if  yon  please." 

Tin  .       \vards  tiir  uou^;-,  \vii:'ii  ?\a.ne\' 

oiiscrv  in:1  tort  distance1  in  t!r.'  \vooiis.  \\-iiicii 

she   wish  ter  them,   and  h.-fi 

( 'bar 

••  A  !;:>  '    \i :  .      .      said  he,  i  npanioil  was 

out  oi  h.'ann^-,  ••  .:  [Jiness  hci\' — oh! 

would  to  lira  ven  il  p^rcved  of  it  !v 

••  A!  r.  Ad  s  iir;'  v.  h  ic  1 1 

had  become  snd(! rid \   .•'.•  nous  and  (iiiiii 

Ijiiod  \\  iiulil  iii\   i-,;io\\  ii  .ii;!1  ot  :h:u  eii'iMiin  \  on  .'     !i 

i!   \^  ill  do  yon  '_!<>od,  let  me  hear  it.  for  I  \viii  rejoice  to  serve 
vou.       Hi!     il     ,  0:1  are  happ\  ,  as  \  on  say,  already,  is  it    not 

[>.          \1  \      !•.  !lo\\ 

\  oar  'c'i, 

lor  m  \    no\ver  i  lini 


1 V.  1 

••Sir,"  said  she,  inliTrnpiino-  him,  "this  i.s  mysieriou 
laiiLi'uaLre.  How  i  can  ill  ;>n\  manner  control  \oiir  fair,  I 
do  not  understand,  nor  do  i  \\ish,  a!  the  j,n  -,  :,;  Lime,  to  IK 
informed.  Mysteries  and  secrets  iiavo  never  been  pleasing 
to  inc.  and  to  become  acquainted  \vitli  yours  now.  is  what  \ 
will  not,  with  my  own  consent.  [  am  persuaded  thai  whili 
it  miLi'ht  do  me  harm,  it  could  do  yon  no  ^ood  ;  and  now. 
when  !  think  of  it  properly,  I  desire  you  to  let  me  remain 
in  ignorance  concerning  your  all'airs." 

••Ah!  .Maria,"'  said  he,  '•  whv  put  'his  cruel  injunction 
upon  me.  !>ui  il  is  vour  wish,  and  1  sliall  obey  i;.'' 

They  here  walked  for  some;  time  in  silence,  during  which. 
Charles's   manner   betrayed   <>T<'a!   a'nlaiion.      Maria,  afraid 
thai  this  miirht  continue  after  their  arrival  a!  the  hou- 
be  observed  hv  some   of  the   fainilv,  stopped  at  a  short  dis 
tance  from  it.  and  said — 

"  Mr.  Adderly,  I  wish  what  has  occurred  between  us:  ihi: 
evening,  not  to  alt<T  our  hearing  to\vards  e;ich  other,  I 
interrupt  whatever   decree   oi'  friendship   ma.    have   e: 
between  us.      1  assure  yon  1  have  not  changed  mv  opinion 
of  yon,  be  that  opinion  what  it  miirhi,  nor  will  1  chap.. 
manners  towards  you,  unless  a  change  becomes  perceptible 
on  \  our  part." 

''Maria!  Maria!"'  s  lid  Charles,  looking  serionslx 
affectin^lv  at  her,  wliile  lie  laid  his  hand  upon  his  bean, 
"j  here  seriously  promise,  that  whatever  mav  hi'  \oiir 
wishes,  onlv' let  me  know  them,  and  L  shall  obey  them — 
for  obedience  to  you  is  .:jul  ever  shall  be,  my  chief  bap- 
pine;  ..-." 

Maria  blushed  deeph  .  for  she  could  no!  now  avoid  rom- 
prehendinu  his  meaning,  but  she  said  nolhinj;-,  and  continu- 
inu  their  walk,  thev  soon  arri\ed  at  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Sin5  k-lt  his  flame,  •  uin  her  breast 

ii;  bas!    LI!  co)  iies      •  .  iden  p^ide, 

T.ii  •  aled  ;   save  ^m-ii  it  stole 

In  sidi                   nces  iVom  her  downcnst  e  •.  ;  , 

Or  1 

Tom  -.  -avs, 

Ho  I'riinrd  ;i  muhe.',;  lay  In  try  !;•  r  lic.irt; 

.\  ml    ii'  :iii    Llii'i  111  • 

ppy  swj.ni  ! 

•      ,  '.   i  :!    oft  d  •  CiitC 

O,  j.ir.iiuy  muiianSis,  tneu  decided  thine. 

'I'm-:  day  ;!t"t"r  the  preceding  interview,  Tonn'-ileuku  visited 
Gilbert's  resilience.  Taking  Charles  aside,  h'1  in  formed  him 
iif  v;;rinu>  iinsurcessfi.il  uUcniMN  t!i;il  Uarrawoona  had  inuu:' 
u>  cnizaii'i'  thi'  nci^hljDi'inir  Indi.-ins  to  insist  i:i  [dirsuing  him. 
••  Bu'.''  said  he,  ••  inv  son,  ;i!t!u)Ui>'h  \\s  is  not  Hi,  civ  to  obtain 
an  >,  iiiaric'.'S  in  ihis  vicinity,  yt.'t  he  may  obtaip,  tin'iu  elsewhere. 
"  .  '  ion!  anv  auxih.iry,  his  <»\\-n  personal  exertii 

hi'  •  inning,  lerocity,  perseverance,  and  intrepidity,  arc  !''•:- 
mi'iable  pen's  to  encjnintei1.  'I'liiire  will  lie  no  end  to  hi:-, 
attem  I  main  in  this  c:-,nntry. 

'  my  son,  while  here,  yon  are  not  1'or  a  dnyle  dav  as- 
:-  1  ".••'!  '>!  ynnr  hi-.'.  \  on  kno'.v  not  !;'>\\p  soon,  Iroiii  some 
iinsnsp'.'c  -:  :-:<  VUM  may  dischai  u^r 

the    timndorboli    oi'   Nonr   destniction.      Then,    iiear   my    ad 
virc.      l-'ix   ;ui    eiiiiy  d.i\    I'M1   yonr   liep.irtine.      Onr  brothei 
i''r-.!/;er  will  !',iiiiis!i  yon   -.viih  H    IKM'SC  and  piovi^ions,  and  1 
v.  ii!    ]n'i)ciire    \  on    a   irmde.       My  son,  i  \vi.-h  von  were  salt', 
\vi:h    ynur   !i:;-inl.i    in    the    !'i-t.   for   1    fear    for    yonr   safely 

ill    IV." 

••  .M  y  f.i'l  •  ;  r,"    said    (   hail*  s,   '•  1    [,  n,iw 

yon  \\i-di     onr  :•(>!!  !!>   be    hap.      Ah!    if  von  \\ish  him  t  . 


tu  get  (mi  ot  tins  \\  liderness.  .\uw.  1  dread,  I  imnnie,  to 
leave  it,  lor  in  leaving  it,  nuclei  present  eircr,;:'stanees.  T  sli:i!) 
separate  from  happiness,  and  perhaps  hid  adieu  to  it  I'orevcr. 
Oh,  father:  fonrive  the  \\eukness  of  your  son.  \  will  reveal 
to  yon  MI y  hc;-iri.  1  want  a  confidant  and  rm  adviser,  am". 
where  can  I  find  a  'hotter  than  you  '.  'i  on  \vm->e  I;  i;  . 
will  sympathize  with  me,  and  whose  wisdom  wii!  direct  rue. 
Father,  my  In-art  is  bound  to  this  place,  for  it  loves,  ii  rvt  n-tlv 
and  unallerahly  loves,  the  fairest,  the  swc.eteM  m:;i(i'  n  ilia! 
ever  charmed  the  aifections  of  man.  Ah!  need  I  It-ii  ynn. 
when  1  say  so.  that  it  is  Maria,  the  daughter  • 
host,  to  \\honi  I  :-m  become  so  attached —  :.  thai 

without  her.  or  without  hopes  oflic-r,  1  ki.ow  not  how  j 
support  life." 

•' My  sou,"   said  Ti>!iii:>l:':!ka.  "yon  your 

confidant — I  will  em'cavta-  to  !;e  a  liue  one.  i  on  liave  told 
me  your  weakness — I  will  n-f  hlamo  you  h.r  it,  nor  coldly 
exhort  yon  against  encouraging  it,  for  I  ::m  not  igiKiran!  ol' 
what  love  is,  and  therefore  know  that  it  would  he  !niitle^u. 
Advice  to  a  lover  is  like  the  wind  to  the  burning  forest,  in 
stead  of  cooling  and  diminishing  the  fury  of  the.  flame,  it 
aggravates  and  increases  it  beyond  the  pov/er  of  control. 
But,  my  son,  I  will  say  ihat  i  grieve  fcr  you.  \our  pas 
sion  is,  at  present,  extremely  inconvenient,  ii  is  unfortunate, 
it  may  interfere  with  your  safety;  for  ii'  it  will  not  permit 
you  to  leave  this  country,  yon  arc  sooner  or  later  likely  to 
fall  by  the  revenge  of  Carrawoona.  3!y  ;:on,  tn;,y  I  ask  if 
the  nniden  knows  that  yon  love  her  ?" 

"Alas!   father,"   replied  Clnrle--.  ••  she  hr.s  not  permitird 
me  to  make  the  declaration.      But  I  believe  she  suspects- 
ah!   she  cannot  out  suspect  how  I  feel.*' 

•'  Hear  me,  my  son,"  ;.aid  Tonnalenka;  "  ihe  maiden  yon 
love  is  the  child  of  my  instruction,  and  ae.  dear  to  me  as  if 
she  were  the  (•Ifsprinir  of  my  loins.  Her  peace  «i  mind, 
therefore,  and  her  prosperity  are  as  much  the  objects  of  ni) 
solicitude  as  yours  can  be.  Your  attentions  may  have  made 
an  impression  upon  her  mind,  even  at  present  unknown  to 
herself,  which  may,  in  the  end,  be  ruinous  to  her  peace — 
for  alas  !  the  female  mind  is  too  susceptible  of  such  impres 
sions.  T  shall  try  hv  studying  her  at'entivelv  v,  hdc  1  talk 


THE     \\  II.DEKN'KSS.  l'«?7 

,n   her   about  you.  to  discover  the  stale  of  her  feelings  ;   ;md 

it' she  be  undisturbed,  if  she  he  cool,  if  she  he  indifferent  to- 

!s  yon,  linar  me,  mv  ••on.  nor  consider  it  unkindness   if 

-  hail   then   require   you.  for  her  sake,  to   relin- 

i|iiisli    all   p  •e'ensions  to  her,  and  if  possible,  for  your  o\vu 

-.•ike.  to  abandon  ail  thoughts  of  her.      For  I  will   not  sane- 

lion    anv  measure   that   will  tend  to   interrupt  the  even  and 

«m-ooth   ;ran  nullity  which  has  hitherto  occupied  her  unnif- 

tled  mini!.'' 

••  \h.  father!    will  you  he " 

ar  me.  further — son.  do  not  interrupt  me  ;  1  have  not 
vet  dine.  If  an  impression  has  heen  made  on  Maria's  mind  ; 
if  I  ;iud  that  your  attachment  is  likelv  to  be  mutual.  I  will 
then  advise  you  to  declare  it.  I  will  encourage  you  to  per- 
sevi  re,  and  use  a:iy  inllucnr-o  I  may  have  over  her  in  pn>- 
raoting  v  son,  you  may  now  speak."' 

••  !'  'tl'.i'r — bv  what  von  h.ave  said,  you  have  bid   me   des 
pair.     1  !  'your  interference  in  mv  behalf,  but,  alas! 
1    IVMV  exr  .      You  will  not  befriend  me — nay,  you 
will  oppose  mv  eifotl-i  to  train  her  favor,  unless  you  discover 
I  already  enjoy  it!      Father,  you  may  save  yourself  the 
!:•  Hib'e  of  miking  the  inquiry,  for  1  know  1  do  not  enjoy  ii. 
>-•    forbidden   rne   to   speak  to  her  the   feeliiifis  of  my 
I,  :•!  i  ; '    !  have   no   friend  who  will    prevail   ou  her 
lo  wi'hdraw  that  prohi!)ition.      ()!i !   if  I  had  only  permission 
my  cause,  permission   to    teli    her   how   much  she 
causes  me  to  sillier,  I    know  she  would  pity  me — she  is  too 
kind-hearted  to  be  a \vare  of  my  sorrows,  and  not  bid  me  be 
comforted." 

"  My  son,'1  replied  Tonaaleuka,  "  I  really  feel  for  you — I 
.rrieve  for  you.  lint  if  Maria  cannot  love  you,  irrief  is  all  I 
••an  irive  you  ;  for  never  will  I  assist  in  either  constraining, 
>ir  !>vcn  in  persuading  her  to  join  her  fate' with  one  she  can- 
101  love.  It  js  my  anxiety  for  her  welfare,  and  not  my  in- 
dill'ereuce  for  vours,  ihat  jirevents  me  from  interfering  with 
iiiv  undue  intliience  in  this  matter. 

••  My  so.i,  listen  to  another  thing.  Have  you  thought  se 
riously  up.Mi  what  would  be  the  consequence  of  your  suit 
:>eing  successful  ?  You  would,  no  doubt,  make  her  your 
s"ife.  But  vour  laws  require  a  certain  prescribed  ceremony 


iiJb  Till-:     WILDERXESS. 

to  be  performed  by  ;;  privileged  perron  fur  that  purpose, 
"Where  could  such  a  j  ci  sun  lie  f  er  she 

nor   you  \\  ould  '  su!  milting   10  our  H  inn  u!' 

mamace;  and  you  could  not  expect  thai  she  wi 
her  la'her  and  her  mother,  and  tiavol  wi;h  yon,  I'm-  weeks 
together  throuijh  a  ho\\  } \\.tr  wihiei  ne<- ,  in  .-  •  n  h  ol  a  priest 
to  tie  the  nuptial  knot!  ?so — rny  son.  }  on  cannot  expect 
this — inr  you  must  si  e  it  (•••nild  not  be  done.  AYhv,  iherc- 
ibre,  disturb  the  mind  of  ;'n  innncent  and  hitherto  h:>ppy 
yomii>-  \voin;m,  by  exciiii:<r  JUT  aflec'.ions  and  securing  her 
Jove,  \\hen  to  jMin  the  oi.jict  fcr  \\hirh  the.-e  are  done,  i>, 
nnii(ir  present  circumstance's,  .-o  nt'erh  in  practicable?  rXo, 
my  >-oi],  yi'ii  Avill  be  \vi.-e,  yon  ,  and  ii'\ou 

rchlly  love  this  young  wormin.  ytui  uiii  ;  to  remain 

!;.ij  j:y  ah  \  ou  found  her,  :;nd  no!  '  v  iadu!i;i!:il  in  '.he  pin>uit 
oi  ::  viild  and  \  i.-ioiKirv,  .u;d.  von  mav  no\\'  pere(-i\e,  unat 
tainable  object,  p!;;:";(ve  hoth  her  and  yourself  iii!n  perhaps  a 
series  fit'  misfortunes,  the  extent  of  \\hieh  can  neither  b? 
f'i're.-een  nor  cali-ulated." 

'•Oh!  Father!  bear  with  me  yet !"  replied  Charles.     "Sure 
ly  1.0    procme   a    la\vl'id    per.-on   to   nnt:e   our    '     .  .'-:.   if  our 
hearts    \ve;-e   once   united,   would  not  he  so  cliiiienlt  a  maitcr 
a«  you    .snpj)o.--e.      Oh!    lit  me  only  lie  sure  of  an  inten  -  I  in 
lier   heart—let    me  lint   have  her  consent  to  join  •. 
lock,   and  I  \vill   soon  hasten   throuuh    the  desert,   a.nd 
iVorn  tiie   habitations   <•!'  elai.-'.ia.n;-.;  a  clergy  man   to  perlorm 
the   ceremony." 

"My  son:  hear  me  main,''  said  Tonnruka,  "your  impet 
uosity  blinds  von  to  obstacles.  It  i*  indeed  ah\  a\.  s  the  na 
ture  of  passion,  and  especially  the  passion  of  lovj.  to  blind 
its  votaries.  The  .iceonplishnu  ;;l  of  u  hat  you  propose,  may 
not  be  inipes-ihle,  hut  an  ii;iuK:nse  majority  of  chances  are 
against  it.  '.i\  son  lei  ns  snp[)oec  \  ou  have  gainet!  the  ;\f- 
fections  of  Maria:  voti  are  oiiiiged  10  leave  her  speedily,  or 
risk  i'alling  the  victim  o(  Cafra\voona.  'J'his  \vould  render 
her  miserable.  Or  you  get  safely  out  of  the  wilderness,  and 
your  father  opposes  your  return,  unwilling  thn:  you  sh<>uM 
auain  encounter  such  hardsiiijis  and  perils  as  will  even  make 
him  shudder  to  hear  reer.ed;  or  he  perhaps  compels  yon  to 
iiiorrv  some  eastern  heiress;  or,  if  h  !i  to  Your  i:\vn  inclina- 


lions,  von  may  search  in  vain  i'or  a  priest  to  accompany  you 
!  it-!;  to  the  desert ;  or  distance  may  cool  your  affection,  and 
:  •  -ire  to  return  ;  or- — hear  mi;  yet — you  may  meet  with 
:  :!  i!  accident  on  your  perilous  journey;  you  may  sick- 
<  a  -ui!  die.  In  short,  a  thousand  things  may  take  place  to 
prevent  Maria  iVoin  ever  a^am  seeing  you.  She,  in  conse- 
(;uenee,  sinks  into  an  agoni/ing  suspense  concerning  your 
t'atc:slje  pines  under  the  weight  of  long  continued  dissapoint- 
ment,  and  a;  length,  dies  ol'  a  broken  heart,  the  victim  of 
disappointed  love: 

'•Listen,  uiy  son — i-  it  not  niy  duty  to  protect  her  if  I  can, 
:"j'aiust  such  a  I'u,).'  and  Oh!  inny  her  irreat.  Parent  above 
s>is*  me!  Still,  my  son!  hear  me.  If  I  find  thai  her  heart 
is  alreadv  touched,  that  her  ail'eiMions  are  already  yours — 
then,  as  I  know  she  will  lie  unchangeable — as  I  know  that 
her  happiness  wiii  tlieii  depend  on  yours — I  will  bid  adieu 
10  caution  on  the  subject;  and,  as  !  before  said,  will  be  the 
of  your  suit.  For  when  two  minds  are  thus  mu- 
linllv  atiached,  the  .sooner  they  come  to  a  mutual  undrr- 
standiiiiTi  thev  are  the  sooner  relieved  from  an  unnecessary 
burden  of  suspense  and  anxiety.1' 

"Father!"  said  Charles,  "your  sentiments  may  be  reason- 
•  i  do  not  feel  as  if  1.  could  judyfe  of  them  properly 
now.  They  sound  harsh  to  me,  but  you  are  my  deliv- 
.  and  1  know  yon  are  my  friend.  I  will  therefore,  think 
nothing  yon  can  say  to  me  har.-h.  But,  Oh!  these  senti- 
inenls  promise  nothing  to  my  happiness,  and  I  am  not  now 
in  a  lit  state  of  mind,  altogether  to  acquiesce  in  their  pro 
priety,  lint  you  nc''d  not  fear  that  1  will  importune  Maria 
with  my  passion.  I  shall  for  ever  love  her,  and  none  'out 
her.  j  shall  bear  in  silence  the  tortures  of  an  unrequited 
love;  for  she  has  commanded  me  to  be  silent,  and  she  shall 
lie  obeyed.  With  respect  to  any  danger  from  ('arrawoona, 
since  my  life  is  thus  likely  to  be  miserable,  it  is  scarcely 
worth  preserving.  Still  it  would  be  criminal  to  tempt  fate; 
and  the  sooner  1  proceed  to  the  eastward,  the  sooner  1  shall 
have  ii  in  mv  power  to  I'-i'ini  with  the  means  of  removing 
at  le;ist  some  of  your  obp •••lions  to  my  suit.  As  soon,  there- 
Core,  as  the  necessary  preparations  for  my  journev  can  he 
•nade,  I  shall  bid.  but  I  !ni-t  oulv  for  a  Mine.  f:o'"wei.l  to  a 
•  1" 


130  TUK    WILDKKNESS. 

country,  u  here,  iti  the  space  of  a  few  works,  I  have  felt 
both  more  joy,  and  sorrow,  than  I  ever  did  during  die  whole 
cour.se  of  my  pre\;ous  existence."' 

The  effects  of  this  conversation  upon  Charles's  mind, 
were  vi.-ible  during  the  \\  in.!e  of  that  day,  and  .\3aria.  conid 
not  hut  observe  them.  Indeed,  her  own  spirits  were  not  in 
the  most  coml'oi  ialile  condition.  Toi-neieuka  had  derided 
that  Charles  was  only  !o  remain  another  day  with  them,  and 
she  saw  that  preparations  were  now  making  for  hisjourney. 
"But  what,  thought  she,  "is  tiiis  ailair  to  me,  that  I 
should  permit  it  to  afl'ect  me  so  much'  This  younu'  man  js 
but  a  stranger  to  me.  'Tis  true  lie  is  interesting,  brave,  and 
unfortunate,  and  lie  has  almost  said  thai — that — no  I  will 
not  presume  so — for  if  lie  did  love  m<',  how  imprudent  it 
would  be  to  return  or  encourage  ills  partiality,  when  fortune 
compels  us  to  reside  so  far  asunder.'  \Vliy  should  1  regret 
that  he  must  now  leave  us  when  his  safety  reouins  it?  I 
will  try  to  bo  cheerful — although  J  se->  that  he  isnui.  I.  n for 
tunate  young  man  !  i  really  wish  his  safety  permitted  him 
to  stay,  for  some  short  time, at  leas!.  But  it  does  sun.  lie 
must  <ro  and  I  mu-t  not  appear  to  grieve  tor  it.  i  will  keep 
up  my  spirits.  It  miinit  occasion  remarks  to  be  made,  if  I 
should  appear  paniculaiU  inelaneholy  about  thi^  time."' 

During  dm  whole  oi'  that  evening,  she  accordingly  did 
keep  up  her  spirns  very  successfully,  and  so  «reat  was  the 
triumph  of  her  resolutions  over  her  feelings,  that  when 
Ttmnaleuka,  with  die  de.-i^n  of  di.>c  ivering  how  they  were 
affected  towards  C'liarles,  talked  p.,  iH'c'ly  to  her  about,  in.s 
leavino-  them,  profe-sm^  a'reat  regrei  jor  the  necessity  that 
occasioned  it,  and  in'eal  admiration  (or  the  openness,  manli 
ness,  and  general  excellence  of  his  character,  she  completely 
succeeded  in  (lei'eivin<f  him  with  vey.ud  to  the  state  of  her 
affections.  She  adknowletl^ed  that  he  was  a  very  line 
accomplished  youn^  man — bin  she  did  so  in  such  a  care 
less  manner,  tint  Tonnaleuka  supposed  she  conceived  it  of 
no  impoitancc  whether  he  was  or  not.  She  pitied  his" mis 
fortunes,  and  wished  him  s-ifc  at  a  distance  from  Carra- 
woona's  vengeance  with  so  much  undisturbed  and  trancjini 
sincerity,  tluit  Tonnaleuku  believed  her  to  be  actuated  only 
by  the  mere  rliarity  of  her  nature,  to  desire  his  safety.  lie 


TIIK     W/f,Dr.K\i>S, 


gave    uj)  his   exaniirr.  by   the   bye,  ho  had  coiii- 

,i  just  when  she 
Iv    coin  meed    ihu!  .  '.       •.•    ' 

. 
\\  hen,  however  the  morn  inn  oi  thai  day  came,  which  \\  a.s 

naliv    so   agitated,   that  »h<    feared    '.'•::;(  (hiring    iis    course,  if 

- !;; id   at   hoiiK 

it  prudent,   therefore,   to  spend  the  dav  a'  ie,      \\\>'c 

' .  she  accordingly  sel  olT  on  a  visit  to  l^  leen  Alliquip- 
p  .    -o   that    Charles,   very   much  !o   his   t!  i     and 

mortification,   felt  himself  compelled    to  pass 

;  h'T    abod  ',   with 
i;;s    i-irurrin    at  her   absence  was  the  greater, 

usual  attention,  fn  i 

expressing  ;heir  icirret  that  ii  did.  n-->t  suit,  him  to  remain  loi\- 
•m. 

il    he — is   siie    who  i  I  all 

Is  me  .'      She  avi iid -  me,  .-•:. 

ill.   — perhaps  because   she  knov.  .      mot    but  know, 

she   renders    me   miserable    by  •      All  !   th 

meat  in  eta          .      •  a  torture  less  toler- 

;<>  my  soul,  and  less   excusable,  than  ihat  which  Carra- 
u  oon  I'  would   i  m   me.       )  i  ••  would   only  in 

dict   ven Lie  nice  u  poll  an  Ulieiu  v  —  bu',  alas  !  she  en; alls  in  isery 
md  despair  upon  a  !o\a  a.      Da:.  h  M    mi  forgive    me    il    1    ac- 
•use  her  wronifl'ully  !    She  certainly  knows  not  how  much  I 
ire    her    pie.-ence    to-dav.  or    she    woul  o    cruelly 

abst.Mit  herself,  for  it  is  not  in  her  natup1  lo  La;  so  cruel." 

'!  mis  he  reasoned,  .  bus   he  ac 

cuse  d ,  a  n  ( I  thus  he  a  c(  ( u  i ! !  ed  !  i  e  >-,  u  1 1 1 1 1  ; ; :  i  •  day  had  a  1 1  v  a ; 
somewhat  into  the    alieiitoon;    \\hen    unaMe    longer    to    bear 
hiir    a!>sence,  ('specially    as    he    was    not    sure    whether    she 
would  return  at    all    before  bis  departure,  lie    resolved    lo    set 
on!  lor    Mli(|inppa's,  and  solicit  ai  least  a  parlinii  inlen  lew. 

lie  accordingly,  without  acin'aintin^  an\  or,e  \\'iih  his  in 
tention,  sel  oil  in  that  direction.  Fortune  sometimes  favors 
lovers  even  in  their  most  desponding  moments,  and,  on  this 
occasion,  she  favored  ('harles  so  far  as  to  permit  him,  when 
i  little  more  than  half  wav  to  Alliquippa's  resided  e,  to  meet 
'us  \I;iria  i  etunimif  homeM'ards  -done  in  the  wood-. 


His  heart  leaped  will:  joy  as   he  beheld   her  continuing  (•> 

advance  :    for  he  \yn  !!  •  iirs!  saw  1:  •!',  th;:!  she 

:    in  order    '  to    the 

V  iv.-  idence.      I':::   1    may   n  :  -rs   of 

:--  liimsc  ll 

re  t!r> 

cause  i  '  nn  her 

visit.     She  thought   that   it    would    he   carrying  her  caution 
with  respect  to    her  lover,  knew  \voll   that   Charles 

'  he  acting  with  too  much 

less  'o  h-'th  hi^  arid   her  own  feelings.  '  I  -o  I'elt 

;i  i!:n.!  imething  else  f.>;  Cli  'rly,  which 

phe    di.'l    nol  wis?!i    !•>    consider    love,  although    it    possessed 
every  one  <>i'  it:  a.-ept  the  name,    to    refuse  him 

•\n  opportunity  .  '    proba 

bility,  w:  •  'lould  ever 

bid  i 

:       ire  he  departs," 

•  V'  •  •,!  :  •  ,  liei  -ell';   ••  there    cnri    !'•;>    no    !;arni    in  tiiat,  since 
dl  !';  i  farewell.  -ly  never  to  meet  again." 

i!:t!>!e   resolution    of 
!    met  her  \viih   feel- 
in!    tho    •  \  '    loved    can  comprc- 

hend,  an  I  v.'hi  T   ;  -;:  who 

have  not. 

'•Oh,   Maria!"  said   he,  \v'ie  her,  while 

slu;  h!  •  ii'"1    i'-eM   out  her  hand  !•.> 

hiisi  hv  wiy  o''       i  — ••()':,  .Maria!    IMV;  glad    !    am  to 

meet  you  !   i   reall\'    feared   I    should    not  have    seen  vou  to 
liave  taken  a  lon</.  :      .          >p  ,  ;i-.)t  a  la^t  farewell." 

"  Your  not   seeiny    me,  Mr.  Aiu'erlv,"  said    she,  "  would 
have  been  no  great  di?     I'  !o  vou.      I  believe  it  would 

siot  have  added  one  p  :~  leno-tii,  wildness,  or 

difilculty  of  your  way  hoinew 

'•It  would.  h:)v/evo;-,:'  replied  Charley  •"  have  disnirileil 
and  Rnfeehled  me.  I  should  have  leaved  that  you  wilfully 
avoided  nie.  from  foiuo  personal  diihke  ;  so  tint  1  shouhl 
have  been  far  less  capable  of  encountering  the  diliii-ulties  of 
the  journey,  than  if  1  commenced  it  with  a  consciousness  of 
,(v;--e-; 'ing  our  e«ii>oin  and  goorl  wishes 


THT   \VIT.DKRN  '  •'>••> 

•  My  esirem  or  pood  v  :  <T  r'ui  br>  of  l-nt  lit'!'-  >m- 

ch  as  ')i<  ;,  I 

•     in    -:.\  ir  -  .:ii.,  I    ilicy    '  .  ;:;    T'  ;  1- 

.   •• 
;.  nn  until    I    wish  [\\  ;.\  s    he  ;:;:d 

'. 

••  i  ?!   !  i!  ire  1  ;;<k  nothing;  hut  ,    t,  i  m  from  yon  '      I-1  there 
o  \vurn  er  t'(  C'!in;    ci'  yi  ur  : 
will  ion-  --  " 


:.  !o  \v!  jrh   I 

wi>h  lo    ''"ini:   t1'1  .:;,;!;,      'Ac    ni1;'    soon    to 

ir.iv,    perhaps,    nr  ver    ;  ({ain    meet.      To    r!i<  n>h, 


'.vnrnn  r  •  ' :t    !if.'    cl(-trii  to    the 

• 
•  ui  fiicli  oilier  only  •>- — " 

iii  re  •-!.'•  \v:i=  ort  o!'  ;>  nn;.sket,  tin.-  Imll 

if   u  liich  strurk    '  .  ] .!•(.'-.(•    it. 

'l'h'>  \  tiiuK.-lv  succcr-tled   liv   ilir   ttMTifvinjr  ai'id  tre- 


i  im  upon  1 1  is  1  • ;  [ ,  ,m 

. 

:.      \Vith  hi-  ill'  li.md, 

•'.  '  by  tin  i  rcby,  forcilily  \'<r<  \ 

in  in  :  -  iictl 

\\  i  t !  i  \v  1    • 

.  '' — 

'•  l)(->tioycr   ol    >i: -\    -i  • .  11  mi   v 

i 's  (_rr;isp.       Yes,  sn.iic  tlion  ;  ' 

\"  vi-'Hiii.      1  .^licriiic"  thy  (  in  ''  i  r" 

vi  ni::1'!.  i.'.  d'.'spitf  o|  ii!;a  ! 

'    '  '. 

th.'i1  i  •  ;ir;h, 

whi-n    ii    pi'  ri'i  d    the    !  i  |'|          did?l 

loi'k  -it  t'ic  \  <nn!i — w-  '    '     •  .      i  i'ni:m;i'iii  to  :  inn' 

Ai.i!  ci'!-t  tiiuii    not  '      \  c  s,  |  (M'liiiui  thcc  ! 

tlinii  didst  kill  the  hero  i  e — ihe  pride,  ilie  ri.  !i-!it  of 

!;!•-  1'ilicr!      I>i:t.   mv   soul    iin\v    rinN    in       !;   isnre.      !    nnw 


have  my  revenge- — Yo^.  i  will  lot  inn-  sec  'drat  woman!  1 
perceive  ihou  easiest  ihinc  eyes  towards  her.  Didst  tlinu 
love  lier  !  Tb  ::  '  am  •" •••;' ~(  •'  revengi  d — f<  r  si  e.  lier  sonl  is 

She 

is  killed  !   I  wii!  h    after   her.      Thy  blood 

shall  appease  my  passion,  thy  scalo  shall  <rratifv  my  pride, 
and  thv  soul  i  .  THIII  to  Carravi  issa  ! 

Xo\v  (••))•  it.! — Xo  prophel  of   MannU)  saves  thce  now  !'' 

So  saying,  he  col!ec!e<:  hi-;  whole  strength,  and  !he  fatal 
blfftv  was  in  the  act  of  ^•i"-'  iding,  v^li'Mi  -,  riflo-luiH  pene- 
fraled  t'ie  brain  .  IMH!  he  i'uli  lifeless  by  the  side 

of  hi.-  intended  vicjini.  <  harles  ^einsi  t'nis  unexpectedly 
freed  fro;-.)  th;i  il  n-iide  foe.  >tari<-d  1o 

his    i  ••  had   ealirtly  fainted 

way .    frt  ,    :u;d    terrifvin^ 

rjcene,  ne    pcrci  .isible,  and  in  a 

— "  Oil  !    God  !    is  she  indeed 
(h,';id  !   Is  I  to  save  IK-" 

At'  iddy  1  but  diref-t- 

in^    hi-?    v,  ho!  x    alter)  » .'arrawoona  :    on    liftinsr 

wliose  liead.  an  "  ired  on  the  earih.  In1 

t':ri'-d  on! — 

'•!);.  ,-vccl.      It  was  a  good  hit 

too,  at  sueh  ::  distant  s.      '  I  le  very  spot   1   aimed   at. 

iiine  to  <re!  nearer — 'jut  never  yr-t.  sliiee  I   wa=  a 

hoy,  liave  j    mi:  hundred   yards.      Il    lias   done 

his  bu-inos,  and  kiiic.-d  him  snugly — i  ciiik  viod  !'" 

'•  ?il;i;pi,i  .  .  and,  the  first  words 

she  distinctly  heard,  were  the  a'vlul  ones,  "nn'.i  killed  him!" 
which,  in  the  present  scattered  stale  of  her  senses  she  sup 
posed  were  applied  to  Charles,  whom  she  did  not  at  once 
perceive  beside  her,  supportintr  her  head  with  his  sound 
arm  tindrr  i;.  and  wish  tb.e  \V')i!nd''d  one  Ivino'  on  the  other 
side,  bleeding  01 

"Ah!  ;nv  Charles!  my  Charles!"  she  in  a  fren/ied 
manner  exclaimed.  '•  h:  -•  Vs-  killed  thee  !  lias  the  monster 
kiileii  iiiy  lieloved  i  Oh!  let  me  see  my  Charles  !  Is  be 
dead  P 

(Here,  seeing  him  beside  her,  and  thinking  what  she 
sa\v  to  be  only  his  corpse,  she  threw  her  arms  around 
him" — 


i  HL.     U  lUJLRNKSS. 


"Oh  !    n>\   be.-  1  beloved.  have  they  muiueied    thee  ?:'    s-he 

ijain    e.xrlaimed.      '-Oh,   (..cd!   ihou   hast   eonn   taken    him 

lii'in  ii!'1.      I  :iiii  ieit  miserable    here.      (  Mi  !   tint  I  could  the 

•with  him  '      V\  hy  did  not  the  murderer  kili  us  in:;h  !     Theso 

j.an^s  —  I  —  I  —  (hero  her  senses  h  ;d  retinuec;  so  i,ir  tint  she, 

•  i  di.-cover  the  trutii  —  I  —  1  —  oh!    \\li.it  —  "   she  nu\v 

e.istiiiijuished  (,'iiaries,  saymp;  m  a  sooiiim;:  manner  — 

"  ,\iy  hnt1.  be  c,i!in  —  neithei  of  us  is  killed.     Thank  God! 
•'.ou    are    vet   sale  —  still   uiive   to    r-s      i  •      ight   your 

niin 

:   thiink  (jini  !  UK'-  •  rej         —  ••'  bul 

is  .'      "\\"as   not    that    shot   mortal  '.      And 

Miffly    1   sa\\     \-  i  .sp   ol    that    drendiiil 

~'.(\';:ii<  .      1  lliank  heaven  there  h:;-  been  no  murder  here." 

"-No  murder,  indeed/'  "has   taken    place  ; 

init    then1    is    a   .  :.      Aiy 

i  nemy.  (  'arrav,  • 

••  j  our    enemy  :  "    . 

<ii  ('.  who  'lUiee  protected  you,  ai  i  <1  you  from  your 

enemies.      ()!:,   Charl     .         ,    thankful   \ve    siioidd    be!"  — 
;l;i-n   chenking  herself,  as  if  sh  le  Iiad   expre.s«ed 

ler    •  .    \iidi-riv, 

you  h  ..  '        •  .  the  ])rotec-;ioi)  oi 

heaven,  which  .:  scued   vou 

Jrom  impending  fa;  ." 

••  I  a:u  tlranklul,  M; 
onlv,  hi 

rath;  r 

tiian  those  ol  >.e  world    besides,  is  not  indji- 

ifreni  to  my  fat(-.      Ol),   M;  ;  a     wn  :  i:on- 

-olation  ailbrded  to  me  this  t  :.~  mil   ..      'J'onnaieuk;1    \\ 
now  ask  me  to  leave  thee  so  . 

••.Mr.  Add-Tiv,"    s.rd    sh-,'.  "you    have,  T    believe,  discox- 
'•red    the    \veakhe.-s    [    wish     id    eoiiceal  ;    but    Irt    u>    talk,  a! 
j)i'e.~ent,  no  more  about  it.      ••  Ah  '."    she  e.\i  [aimed,  imi: 
the  condition  of  in-  ri^iit  arm.  "  ;di  !    1  tear  von  aie  wounded, 
perhaps    dantrerously    •  <>!i,    Charles!    the    W<M>T 

may  not  yet  be  o\  er  :" 

"The   \\rorsl   is   over,  m\    lo\e!  '    sanl  lie,  m  a   low   \cni:i\ 
'-o   tiiat    Paddy  could    not  overhear  him,   "  1    think    tins    hun 


ll  tip.     < Hi.  ( !har  Miijch 

you   have   :  e  you  have  been    In   t'ii.-. 

\\   il'l' 

ven 

'•  \ 

'  rrawoona's    .-.-kuli    exl'iibi;!".!    of  ):!.• 

lhe  lovers — "  ye-?," 

!'.     Tlii-:  - 

:    m\   niio.  requires  no   morn   KK  •   - 
'_  .  \Iaria." 

-    of  -.:•:!    eye.  l^nddy,  I   1  o   ;!-.  - 

" 

P.iddy,  "  ahou!  my  ev(  ;   the  fellow 

von';  •  I'  it.      As  to  th>.'  worst 

o!'  it,  }'  '  rfi  lik(.j  a  t \viif  Irmii  a 

tree — Maria,  lend  me  that  .^h awl ;   I  will  sling  i I  rfUjil'-rtalilN 
to  hi.-'  'nrea.-'t  tiii.  we  .^et  lionie.  and  then  'i'onnniriilc)  \v 
it  as  neatly  ;is  he  did  my  hrok<-n  h'ir  lon:r  a1.-/),  for  his  liaiids 
are  as  V.T!|   skilicd   iu   these   matters,   as   h.is   ;  van  is  in  nhi 
losophy." 

Al  ;iria  hasiily  loo  -ened  hi  :•  ;  ha\v] ;  and  • 
]':H|I!V  i:;  !:  xinir  ( 'harlc.--':;  l'!-i<"tnre  wiih  it.  so  \\\:\:  ils  m 
liim  pain  ;;;i  he  readied  ihe  house,  whi 

he  was  a'i'i:  to  \valiv  stonily  enough,  was  ae<p  .  SJH.-I  - 

(illv   :•!]'.!    \viiiio:M   Accident. 


WII,DKKM;SS.  137 


CHAPTER  X1I1. 

O  woman  !    in  our  horns  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  cov.  and  hard  to  please 
And  variable  a;  the  shade 

By  the  Iiirhl  <|iiivennsj  aspen  made; 
When  pain  and  aiiL'uish  wring  the  brow, 
A  njinit;te.rinji  an^ul  thou  ! 

SCOTT. 

The  excitement — the  mixture  ot'  alarm  and  joy  produced 
on  Charles's  arrival  at  the  house  oi' his  kind  host,  upon  the 
minds  of  iis  inmates,  mnst.  like  many  other  things  hinted 
at  in  this  history,  he  left  lor  ilie  reader  to  imagine.  Their 
joy  soon  predominated,  however,  when  Tonnaleuka,  after 
hindinir  up  his  arm  as  art.  or  rather  as  nature,  suggested, 
declared  that  the  hurt  was  not  dangerous,  and  that  a  lew 
\veeks  of  care  and  uood  nursin«,r  would  restore  him  to  as 
much  viijor  and  soundness  as  he  ever  possessed;  and  they 
>varmly  expressed  to  Charles  the  »reat  satisfaction  they  felt 
at  this  successful  termination  of  his  contest  with  his  rancor 
ous  enemv.  Paddy  also  came  in  for  a  share  of  their  joyful 
atteniion,  and  obtain*  i  many  heariy  thanks  and  eulo<ne.s  for 
is  timelv  and  fortunate  interference,  with  his  steady  and 
keen  eve,  on  this  occasion. 

••  ( ioth,  man  !''  said  his  lather,  "  it  was  the  besi  o-uided  an' 
I'ickiest  aim  ye  ever  took.  Ave  dra\v  \ c're  triiryer  in  sitch 

cause,  1'addv  ;  aye  shoot  sharp  in  favor  o'  yere  ain  kind 
o'  tolk,  an'  dinna  sj)ar'e  the  ithers  when  they  wad  do  mis- 
i-hief,  an'  I  winna  say,  hut  after  a'  ye  were  horn  for  a  ouid 
i  nd,  thoiiL1'!!  \c'l!  no  work  christian-like  on  the  Ian'.  Heth, 
lad!  ye  hae  a!  last  done  whaf  maks  me  prood  o'  ve  !" 

As  lor  Charles,  the  assurance  lie  now  had  of  hem;/  he- 
loved  l>v  the  mistress  ol  his  heart,  and  the  assiduous  at- 
lentions  which,  in  this  period  ol  Ins  allliction,  she  unhes- 
natinjrly  paid  him.  »'a\e  him  such  a  deliohilMl  How  and 
'•uoyancy  of  spirits,  thai  hr  appeared  all  cheerfulness,  ani- 
13 


mation.  and  gaveiv,  happv  in  himself,  and  pleased  with  ail 
around  him. 

Tonnaleuka,  who  did  iiol  know  tiiat.  in.  Lad  discovered 
the  stale  of  liana's  feelings,  naturally  ascribed  Charles's 
good  humor  10  his  having  so  providentially  got  rid  of  his 
persecutor,  to<i'e:her  with  the  prospect  he  now  had  of  enjoy 
ing  a  longer  residence  in  the  same  place  with  the  woman  he 
lo\  ed.  1 1  is  mind  beinsr  now  at  ease  with  respect  to  ( 'harles'^ 
saff  ty,  he  was  not.  of  course,  so  solicitous  i'or  his  speedv 
departure  as  he  had  heen  ;  and  the  wounded  arm  making  a 
delay  of  some  weeks  necessary,  he  acquiesced  1:1  i;s  pro 
priety,  lie  thought  it  prudent,  however,  to  take  an  earl\ 
opportunity  of  cautioning  Charles  au'ainsi  disiuriiinir  the 
present  screnitv  of  Maria's  mind  by  any  disclosure  of  }\\> 
passion. 

"You  know,  mv  son.'  said  he,  ••  tiuit  then1  are  diiiicul- 
ties  in  the  way  of  \  our  union  which  you  may  never  he  able 
to  overcome.  How  unfortunate  would  it  then  he  for  this 
young  woman  to  fix  her  affections  upon  one  whom  it  is  so 
unlikely  she  shall  ever  call  her  husband.  If  you  wish  her 
•well,  my  son,  YOU  will  be  careful  to  conceal  vour  passion 
from  her  knowledge.  1  know  it  is.  under  the  circumstances 
in  which  you  are  now  placed,  a  hard  task  that  1  prescribe 
to  you.  There  are  few  votinsr  men  who  could  accomplish 
it;  but  it'  yon  can  do  it,  so  much  greater  will  be  your  vic 
tory,  and,  in  the  end,  believe  me,  so  much  greater  will  lie 
your  self-approbation." 

'•Father,"  replied  Charles,  ••  it  would  he  wronir  in  me 
to  conceal  aught  from  you.  Of  my  attachment,  for  her.  she 
is  already  aware.  If  you  have  discovered  that  she  vio\\^ 
it  with  indifference,  it  is  my  misfortune.  But,  father,  per 
mit  me  to  say,  that,  1  canuol,  and  I  believe  no  one  can,  love 
as  I  do,  without  hope.  N  es,  kind-hearted,  lovely  maiden  ! 
she  has  given  me  ground  for  hope.  Ah,  father!  1  feel  here, 
within  my  breast,  a  presentment,  in  which  I  cannot  but 
confide,  that  this  sweet,  this  fascinating  young  woman  and 
I  are  destined  for  each  other.  Do  not — do  not,  1  imploiv 
you,  you  who  are  ray  best  of  friends — do  not,  by  \  our  cold, 
discouraging  injunctions,  forbid  me  to  cherish  that  sacred 
presentiment,  which  affords  me  so  much  happiness!" 


SHE    WH.OERNESS  1  lUt 

"My  son,"   observed   the   prophet,  "•  I  am  then  mistaken 

.!  respect  to  Maria.      1   have   lalked   1o   her  about  you,  and 

included,  from  her  manner  as  -\vell  as   her  language,  that 

mind .  \vas    yet  at  ease.      I   may   have   been  deceived. 

i Jut  you  vourseif  said  you   were  certain  she   did  not  love 

\  on." 

••I  said  so  once,  my  father,"  replied  Charles:  -'I  was 
ien  niiseral)!c — 1  believe  dili'ereniiy  now.  thank  heaven  ! 
.iiid  I  am  happy." 

"Jt'it  be  so,"  said  Tonnaleuka,  ''then  the  die  is  cast.  If 
she  loves  you  once — i  know,  her — she  will  love  vou  lor- 
cver;  ami  the  onl\"  method  to  secure  her  happiness,  will  be 
lo  promote  yours,  and  use  everv  i'air  means  to  clear  tin.'  way 
for  vour  union.  She  has  btvn  more  than  a  i'avoriu;  pupil 
with  me.  She  lias  been  the  very  child  of  mv  tuition.  I 
mist  forever  feel  concerned  ;n  her  welfare.  Mvson.  if  von 
ave  her  ali'ections.  vou  have,  indeed,  a  valuable  pri/e, 
•A'hich  I  trust  yon  will  ever  poss,-:--s  wisdom  enough  lo  ap 
preciate  justly,  and  honor  enough  lo  cherish  fondly. 

•-.\i\  son.  1  iro  ojf  to-morrow  to  ihe  northward.  An 
Indian  council  requires  my  presence  in  a  few  days.  Jt  will 
•>e  three  weeks  before  I  return  hen:-.  Von  will  be  then 
I'.mi'h  recovered,  and.  under  vour  present  prospects,  1  ex 
pect  \\  id  ha\e  no  objection  to  proceed  soon  to  Philadelphia, 
'vhere  you  may  smootii  ihe  wa\  tor  the  attainment  of  \  our 
I'uture  vieM  s.' 

iJurmii'  Tonnaleuka's  absence,  Charles,  wno  had,  as  \ve 
have  seen,  cxchanii'ed  an  almosi  l)roken  hear!  for  an  alto- 
:cther  broken  arm,  was  so  rejoiced  at  such  an  improvement 
ii  hi-<  iii'fnirs,  tliat  he  I'd:  as  if  all  the  world  was  in  the 
\\  ilderness — all  ot'  it,  indeed, -thai  be  at  this  time  consid 
ered  necessary  to  his  happiness,  namely,  Maria  Frazier, 
A'as  there. 

Since  the  accidental  discover',  he  had  made  of  her  feelings 
ou  a  rds  him.  she  Ind  not  sho\\  n  him  ihe  same  ;h\  ness  and 
reserve  r:<  belore  :  nay,  during  the  hr<t  le\\-  davs  oi  his 
iracinre,  she  mamii'sicd  ioi-  him  unusual  tenderness  and 
sympathy,  under  the  persuasion  thai  his  imslortune  was 
sufficient  justification  for  the  disphiv  of  such  feelings.  Hut 
die  soon  found  herself  under  the  necessiiv  of  abating  her 


1 40  THE    WILDKRXKSS. 

attentions,  and  sometimes  even  of  avoiding  his  presence,  in 
order  to  prevent  him  from  exposing  both  her  :md  himself, 
by  an  ill-limed  display  of  his  fondness;  and. also,  perhaps, 
with  the  view  ol'  keeping  alive  that  respi  :  of  passion 

which  lie  had  hitherto  borne  lor  her,  and  which  she  sup 
posed  (for  sh"  had  occasionally  a  slight  tincture  uf  the  prude 
in  her  disposition)  that  too  much  familiarity  would  tend  to 
weaken  and  diminish.  JShe.  however.  kne\v  liow  to  regu 
late,  this  slight  assumption  of  diym'ly  so  well,  that  in  place 
of  reserve,  il  appeared  gracefulness,  and  instead  of  displea^- 
m<r,  it  only  the  more  charmed  her  lover.  Hut  she.  in  real 
ity,  allowed  him  so  many  opportunities  of  enjo\  inir  her 
society,  of  talking  of  his  love,  of  his  hopes,  and  of  his  in 
tentions  with  re>peci  to  her  and  connubial  happiness,  tliat 
lie  had.  on  tlie  whole,  dnrin<r  Tonnaleuka's  absence,  no 
reason  to  complain. 

His  love  matters,  'hat  is,  the  matters  dearest  to  his  heart, 
being1  thus  providentially  placed  on  the  most  favorable  foot 
ing,  he  be^aii  seriously  to  reflect  on  the  propriety  of  returning 
home,  that  he  mi'rht  not  only  acquaint  the  Ohio  Company 
of  the  misfortunes  that  iiad  befallen  their  expedition,  but 
also  arrange  matte;  s  for  a  speedy  return  to  the  V\  iideiness, 
with  the  neeessarv  means  of  making  Aiaria  his  wife,  raudy 
Frazicr,  to  whom  ;  :,,)V,r  naturally  much  attached 

him,  was  desirous  to  accompany  him  on  his  journey,  for  the 
purpo-e  of  carrying  h:s  furs  and  peltry  wares  to  Philadel 
phia,  to  exchange  them  there  for  such  merchandise  as  suited 
the  Indians.  This  desire  of  .Paddy  was  very  agreeable  to 
Charles,  not  only  because  he  would  lie  both  a  useful  and 
agreeable  companion  on  the  way,  but  because  he  would 
have  an  opportunity,  when  they  should  arrive  at  Philadel 
phia,  to  reward  him  by  a  present  of  merchandise,  for  the 
active  and  dexterous  management  by  which  he  so  critically 
saved  his  life  ;  and,  if  the  whole  truth  must  be  told,  he  also 
wished  to  h:ive  the  means  of  writinir  to  his  beloved  by  some 
safe  and  speedy  conveyance,  il  it  should  happen  that  uncon 
trollable  circumstances  compelled  him  to  remain  longer  per 
sonally,  for  he  felt  assured  that  he  could  never  be  mentalh  . 
absent  from  her. 

Paddy   accordingly  having  resolved   upon   this  journey. 


mi:    wn.nKKMvSs.  1  1  I 

considerably  to  his  fathi'r's  satisfaction,  who  hoped  he  mMil 
tall  in  with  some  <rood  chrisiiau  vroman  on  the  journey, 
whom  he  mi'j'ht  brimr  back  with  his  other  eastern  u'oods,  as 
lis  own  property.)  was  now  busied  preparing  for  the  ifreat 
undertaking,  by  assorting,  cleaning',  and  packing  up  his 
wares,  and  adding  considerably  to  their  quantilv.  by  hastily 
puivhasinu'  whatever  the  Indians  in  the  neighborhood  could 
spare  him. 

At  length  Charles's  arm  waa  sufficiently  recovered  to  per 
mit  him  to  undertake  the  journey,  and  the  day  drew  near 
when  IK;  was  to  bid  farewell  to  his  beloved.  Tonnaleuka 
had  returned  (rom  the  Indian  council  which  lie  had  been 
attendina'.  and  the  guide  whom  be  had  some  time  before 
i  led  for  Charles  was  in  readiness.  This  man  whose 
name  was  Alanhulseh.  was  much  in  awe  of  Tonnaleuka, 
Hid  was,  at  tiie  same  time,  well  acquainted  with  the  whole 
mountainous  district  of  L'ehnsylvimi,  from  the  Chesnut  ridge 
;o  tiie  South  .Mountain,  'tie  was  also  a  tolerably  brave  man, 
and  could  handle  a  musk'.-t  or  a  tomahawk  with  any  indi 
vidual  of  his  tribe.  Hence  he  was  one  of  the  best  qualified 
persons  our  travellers  could  have  procured,  to  conduct  them 
i.lirou!/!i  the  vast,  intricate,  and  appalling  Wilderness  they 
iiad  to  traverse,  and  his  reverence  and  attachment  for  Tonna 
leuka.  secured  to  them  the  full  benefit  of  his  fidelity. 

Although  thus  well  supplied  with  n  nuide,  and  in  every 
other  respect  fully  equipped  for  the  journey,  Charles  felt 
in  his  heart  such  a  reluctance  to  commence  it,  that,  under 
under  various  pretences,  some  of  which  were  so  frivolous 
as  to  be  seen  through  and  smiled  at,  although  they  were  in 
dulged  by  his  friends,  he  succeeded,  in  spite  ofall  Paddy's 
ell'orls,  who  was  very  impatient  'o  proceed,  in  (retting  their 
starling  postponed,  from  day  to  day,  for  upwards  of  a  week 
aher  the  tune  originally  fivd  upon  for  it.  At  length  all  pleas 
and  excuses  were  exhausted,  or  rather  he  felt  ashamed  to 
advance  more;  and.  becoming  resigned  to  the  necessity  of 
separating,  for  a  time,  from  his  heart's  best  and  deaivst  trea 
sure,  lie  a:"-"cd  that  the  next  risino-  sun  should  see  him  on 
h;s  way.  lie  had  past  enpiyed  what  he  considered  would 
be  his  last  private  interview,  at  this  time,  with  Maria,  and 
was  wandering,  towards  the  evening,  alone  in  one  of  ( i  ilbert's 


THE    WILDERNESS. 


stood  before  him  the  well-known  and  ioltn  -'ii  of  Peter 


M'Fall,  who.  ly  caii!  .          ,     hand,  cx- 


w  i   Inn  e  found  y< 

your  h;  ,    ;;nd    feel  iiow    Peter's    heart    beats,  for  Pin 

all  out  of  breath  with  joy,  and  wiiii  running  to  see  you  -dive. 
liy  tiie  powers  of  Moll  .Kelly!  but  i  ihoi'iiht  the  ould  prophet 
had  'ai.cn  you  to  heaven  with  him  and  I  feared  1  should 
never  see  yon  again,'' 

"Had  I  been  taken  to  heaven,  indeed,"  said  Charles,  it 
is  likeiy  yen  never  should.  I  therefore,  suppose,  Peter,  tint 
my  being  there  .,  od  and  grieved 

you." 

'•Arrai:,  master!  now  L.  .  for  its  true  as  the 

that  1  \v.  .  •  \vished  mys;  ; 

But  mv  b'csssing  or,  I  .   I.  st 

are  not  so   badly  oil'  yet." 

"Then  you  ,;re  pleased,"  observed  Charles,  "that  1  must 
fret  and  fight  a  little  longer  whh  this  troublesome  \\orld." 

"By  the  sweel  Itiil  of  llowth!"  replied  Petci,--aiul  sure 
I  am  so — and  manv  u  hard  liu'ht  may  you  iiave  oi  i;,  and  the 
blessing  ol' Saint  Kenan  into  the.  bargain!  But  master,  yon 
der  cumes  the  doctor  who  fret  my  arm  in  a  sliim  so  neat — 
but  how!  what!  your  arm  in  tapes,  too!  Not  broken!  mas 
ter — 1  hope — 'mi  an aii  !  by  my  sow],  the  doctor  must  cure 
it.  Not  broken,  1  hope!'' 

"Yes   broken,   but  mended   again,"   replied  Charles. 

"Mended!"'  repeated  Peter,  "  och  !  sure  now,  wasn't  it 
a  pity  to  iret  ii  done  so  soon,  master,  before  either  the  doc 
tor  or  I  Ci'ulii  get  to  }  on  to  nx  it.  Uoe.'.or  Kdbreath  is  the 
best  hancl  at  soldering  bones  ever  came  from  a  coll<  ge.  Arrah 
now  how  how  luckv  it  would  have  been  if  you  had  known 
we  were  commas  for,  sure  now,  wouldn't  you  have  waited 
to  get  the  doctor  to  cure  it  .' 

"It  is  pretty  well  as  it  is,  Peter,'"  observed  Charles,  "and 
a  good  deal  better  than  if  I  had  kept  it  hanging  these  five  or 


i  in:   wiLDERNtisa.  143 

-ix  weeks  by   flesh   and  skin,  in   order  to   accomodate   yon 

•Mid  the  doctor  with  a  job.  Hut  1  ben  your  pardon,!"  he 
i-ontiinied.  turning  to  the  snr;  eon,  who  had  pist  approached, 
or  lie  had  no;  exerted  hi  0:1  seeing  Charles,  with 

nch  enthusiasm  as  done;  but  coming  forward 

at  a  moderate  rale,  he  ;  .  '  this  point  ol  the  con 

versation.  "Doctor,  I  be1;  your  pardon,"  said  Charles,  "I 
was  just  cxc.u-rm.'i;  mysell  to  Peter  for  not  permitting  my 
arm  to  remain  for  the  last  six  weeks  in  a  state  of  fracture, 
i;i  order  that  you  mi^iit  now  have  Hire  of  reducing 

it." 

••]•.  ad  vou  done  s  >,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling,  "it  is  ten 
to  one  ii  yon  should  now  have  had  any  arm  to  talk  about." 

i-  \Vhy  sure,  now,  doctor,-'  observed  Peter,  he  didn't  tret 
them  both  smashed.  Arrah,  master,  1  think  you  stiil  would 
have  had  on;.-  <;i'  them  to  t  hew  and  to  talk  about." 

••1  hope  so  i'Yter, "  replied  Charles,  "I  am  glad  you  are 
so  witt}  .  V,  by,  you  have  reae  ic  doctor  in  a 

bull;  unless  ho  supposes,  that  had  [paid  him  the  eompli- 
meni  to  wail  for  Ins  t'jivico-,  both  ol  my  aims  should  now 
liavi  been  food  for  the  worms,  aiicl  consequetly  until  for  me 
;o  talk  about.  Hut  !ii\  friends,  I  am  i>'lad  you  have  come 
here  at  such  a  critical  moment,  for  L  u  as  about  setting  off 
;o-morrow  lor  Philadelphia.  .Now  we  can  :dl  <jo  together. 
say  you  doctor.'  My  -rood  friend,  Fraxier,  who  lives 
here  can  have  you  hoe  d  for  the  journev  in  a  single 

day.'' 

••There  is  notiiiiiii  1  wish  lor  more  sincerely,''  replied 
the  doctor;  "the  sooner  \\  e  u'el  out  of  these  wilds  the  bet 
ter.  1  am  happy  that  that  \\  e  got  here  so  opportunely.  1 
have  indeed,  rea.-on  to  lhank  Peter  lor  it." 

••  No,  by  mv  sou  I  !"  said  pet<T,  ••  vou  may  thank  master, 
there,  lor  1  would  not  have  thought  ol  leaving  the  French 
vet.  ii  liie  ould  prnpiiel  hadn't  told  me  to  a  .>havii)L'',  how 
master  lived  here  \\nha  decent  cliristian  and  an  Irishman, 
heaven  ble:-s  him!  hni  i  must  see  h.im  and  shake  his  ould 
bone  lor  him  on  accouni  ol  tile  sod.' 

••('oine  alon,'f  then.  Peier,"  said  Charles,  "old  Cdbert 
will  lie  o|ad  to  see  vou.  'v.  under  comes  his  daughter,  Nancy. 
Doctor.  \'o:i  must  take  care  of  vour  hear!,  lor  she's  a  prettv 


THK     WILDERNESS. 


girl — and  1  know  it  is  rather  tempting  to  meet  a  pretty  girl  in 
the  wilderness.  >' 

"I  suppose  you  have  found  it  so,  Mr.  Addcrlv."  replied 
the  doctor. 

"1  cannot  .say  much  about  it,"  observed  Charles,  "but  I 
know,  doctor,  you  are  no  woman-hater — and  Nancy,  as  you 
will  soon  see,  is  really  handsome." 

"1  acknowledge,"  leturned  the  doctor,  "Hint  in  this  des 
ert,  I  should  consider  the  sight  of  a  handsome  young  woman 
a  real  treat.  " 

"  Well,  take  care  of  your  heart,  my  good  friend,"  said 
Charles,  "for  here  comes  temptation."  At  this  moment, 
jNaney,  who  had  been  in  the  woods  on  some  errand,  and 
was  now  reluming  home,  turned  oil' in  another  direction,  as 
if  to  avoid  the  men  with  whom  Charles  was  convcrsinir.  for 
she  had  advanced  m-ar  cno'iijdi  to  perceive  they  were  stran 
gers.  Charles  called  on  her  to  stop,  which  she  did,  and  the 
party  approached  her. 

"  Whv  do  you  run  away  from  me,  JNancy  .'"  said  Charles. 
"These  are  some  of  my  old  Philadelphia  companions,  just 
escaped  from  Le  Boeuf,  and  one  of  them  is  a  countryman  of 
your  father." 

"  My  lather  will  be  glad  to  see  them,  doubtless,"  said 
Nancy. 

"And  won't  yon  too,  make  them  welcome  for  a  couple 
of  days'"  asked  Charles.  "Here  is  Doctor  Killbrealh, 
my  friend,  who,  I  hope,  will  be  found  a  pleasant  com 
panion  .'" 

"Sir,"  said  Nanev,  who  had  t'ikeii  one  or  two  sly  looks 
at  the  doctor,  for  she  had  observed  his  eves  fixed  upon  her, 
with  a  meaning  she  did  not  exactly  understand,  but  whirl- 
she  thought  did  not  denote  anything  uncivil.  "Sir,  1  will 
do  my  best  to  make  your  friends  comfortable,  for  I  doubt  not 
that  they  will  deserve  our  kindness." 

"Doctor!  why  don't  yon  thank  the  young  lady,"  said 
Charles — "why,  man,  you  seem  to  be  in  a  reverie." 

"I  feel,  I  feel — her  kindness,"  replied  the  doctor,  rousing 
up  at  this  reproof;  "Aliss — Miss  Frazier,  I  assure  you  I 
feel  your  kindness  as  much  as  if  I  expressed  it  better." 

''  Whv,   I   think."   observed    Nancy,  "  von   express    well 


THi:     \VIT,1>ERXKSS.  MJi 

enough  what  there  is,  indeed,  no  need  at  all  of  mentioning. 
i  MU  'should  first  receive  ihe  kindness,  before  you  IMVP  thanks 
tor  it." 

••  A_rh  !  let  the  lasses  alone  for  jiood  manners  !"  cried 
i'eter  M'Fall.  "The  pretty  creatures  can  still  teach  us 
uenleehty.  («od  bless  the  kind  hearts  of  them,  for  sure  my 
mother  was  one  of  them. 

••And  have  you  never  seen  any  of  them  you  loved  better 
Man  your  mother?"  asked  Charles. 

'•  Well,  the  devil  take  me,  master,  but  T  have,"  replied 
Peter,  "but  it  was  in  sweet  Dublin,  your  honor.  Oeh  ! 
Miere.  how  I  longed,  till  1  was  bothered  almost  out  of  my 
riiM's.  tor  a  little  bit  of  the  cherry  lips  of  Molly  M'Nickle, 
"f  Thomas  street.  Arrah,  master,  just  think  now  how  it 
^leased  me  to  sit  beside  her  and  sing — 

i  !    Molly  Astore  ' 

[in\v  inn1!;   1  adore 
The  sweet  >ini!m'_r  t;harms  of  vour  beautiful  face, 

On  your  lovely  \vh>te  breast, 

Oh  !    liiiu    fond  1  could  rest. 
And  enjoy  ;;il  the  :.;:-;  of;1.  mutual  emijrace." 

Uas  !   poor  .Molly  !   she  may  never  hear  me  a^ain  !" 
The    party  had    now  arrived   at   the    house,  and   a   hearty 

hake  of  (Jilbert'.s  Iri>h  iist  soon  dispelled  from  Pttcr'.s 
volatile  heart  the  melancholy  which  the  remembrance  oi 
'he  happiness  he  once  enjoved  wiiii  Molly  M'Nickle  luul 

veiled. 


THK     WILDKRNKSt, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Sprod,  speed  for  your  freedom,  the  war  dot;s  are  oat  : 
Their  scout  is  a  stire  one,  it  marks  out  your  path  ; 

Speed,  s-peed  tor  your  safety,  I  hear  t.ho  tierce  .shout 
Oftho  loos  who  are  panting  for  blood  in  their  wrath! 

BASKET  or   Sn.u"-. 

Whether  (lie  writer  of  a  tale  should  relate  more  of  it  than 
is  just  necessary  to  make  it  easily  understood,  is  a  question 
which  I  could  wish  tho  critics  to  decide.  It  would  save  an 
indolent  -uuhor,  like  me.  many  a  half  hour's  troublesome 
reasoning  and  balancing  within  himself  the  various  pros  and 
cons  concerning  the  nropiioty  of  narrating  incidents,  the  con 
nection  of  which  with  the  "rand  thread  of  his  story,  mny  he 
somewhat  doubtful;  hut  which,  if  not  narrated,  would  leave 
a  certain  air  of  incompleteness  and  obscurity  hanu'ino-  over 
some  transactions  and  cl'ai  actors,  which  must  be  introduced. 
It  is  true,  there  are  many  readers,  who  miodit  not  observe 
this  want  of  oonneciiun— -for  there  are  indolent  renders  as 
wcil  fs  indolent  writers  ;  hut  thero  are  others  who  n'ould 
not  only  observe  it,  but  feel  it  offensive,  and  be,  in  conse 
quence,  heartily  inclined  to  consign  the  author  to  unpitied 
condemnation. 

But  who  are  the  critics  ?  My  dear  reader,  you  are  one 
of  them  ;  and  if  I  could  possibly  have  your  opinion  on  this 
matter,  before  I  write  this  chapter,  the  intended  subject  of 
which  is  one  of  the  above  perplexing  description,  I  should 
then  know,  whether  .'riving  it  would  please  yoi;  or  not  ;  and 
to  please  you,  you  are  aware,  is  the  great  object  1  have  in 
view.  But  beincr,  of  course,  ignorant  ol  what  may  be  your 
wishes  on  the  subject,  I  can  only  do  what  I  suppose  best 
adapted  to  keep  you  in  temper.  I  will  not,  therefore,  with 
hold  the  chapter,  lest  peraclventure,  you  miirht  desire,  to  read 
it,  but  will  tell  you  the  subject,  so  that,  if  you  should  think 
it  has  not  concern  enough  with  the  main  story,  yon  may 
avoid  it,  and  without  either  troubling  yourself,  or  vexing1  me 


I  UK     \V  ihiU-Jt.NKHS,  1   i~ 

i>\  \our  displeasure,  go  on  with  the  next,  which  will  be  the 
fcfteenth  chapter  of  this  volunit:,  and  which  will  carry  yon 
along  the  path  of  the  history,  ruggedly  and  coarsely  enough, 
[  forewarn  yon,  hut  j  assure  you,  with  great  fidelity  and 
exactness,  liy  this  management,  ]  conceive  that  the  only 
error  I  shall  commit,  will  be  giving  to  those  who  mav  travel 
through  this  work,  the  choice  of  two  roads  for  their  jour 
ney — ihe  one  shorter,  but  a  liille  more  obscure  and  abrupt, 
and  the  other  clearer  and  smoother,  but  more,  winding  and 
ledious.  Now,  reader,  having  thus  slated  the  merits  and 
demerits  of  both  these  ways  of  getting  onwards,  and  left  it 
fairly  to  your  own  choice,  which  to  take,  I  think  that  you 
cannoi  in  conscience  blame  me,  if  you  take  the  one  that 
you  least  pleasure . 

The  suhjec;  of  this  chapter  will  bo  the  adventures  of 
Peter  M  Fall  and  i/octor  Ivillbreath,  in  making  their  escape, 
from  Fort  Le  Hc-uf,  and  traversing1  the  wilderness  from 
thence  to  Gilbert  Frazier's.  It  will  consequently  have  little 
or  nothing  to  do  with  the  history  of  either  Charles  Adderly 
or  Maria  Fraxier.  You  mav.  therefore,  pass  it  by  if  you 
clioo.-.  . 

Although  Peler  M"F;dl  had  the  fortunafe,  laculty  oi  soon 
making  himself  comfortable  in  almost  any  situation,  yel 
there  were  places  and  persons  in  the  world  whose  presence 
lie  infinileh  preferred  to  others.  For  instance,  the,  air  of 
sweet  .Dublin  he  greatly  preferred  to  that  of  Le  l><euf.  and 
the  authority  of  Charles  Adderly  to  that  of  the  French  com 
mandant.  Notwithstanding  th's  feeling',  Peter  had  not  for 
some  weeks  afier  his  imprisonment  entertained  any  desire- 
to  escape.  At  Fort  Le  I>u-nf  he  could  eat  and  drink,  and 
be  idle,  or  when  lie  pleased,  he  could  he  merry,  and  dance, 
sing,  and  frolic  awa\  with  his  nay-hearted  jailers,  as  con- 
tentedlv  and  giddily  as  any  oi' them.  iSiit  ihis  was  because 
he  saw  lie  could  do  no  heller.  If  he  got  out  of  the  tort,  he 
was  com  ii.ieed  that  lie  could  never  get  out  of  the  unbounded 
forest  that  surrounded  it.  The  chance  was,  that  in  attempt 
ing  it,  he  would  either  perish  from  cold  and  want,  or  fall 
into  ihe  hands  of  the  savages,  and  perhaps  meet  that  terri 
fying  late  from  which  the  huiinnilx  <>f  his  present  jailers 
had  rescued  him. 


148  'ilit;     WiLDKKAKSrt. 

These  reflections  had  prevented  him  troni  harboring  am 

desire  to  escape,  until  about  ihree  weeks  previous  to  hy 
appearing  in  the  presence  of  his  master,  as  related  in  the 
last  chapter.  An  accident,  \\hicli  befell  his  fellow-prisoner, 
Dr.  Killhreath,  iirst  exciied  tin;  intention  to  effect  both  his 
own  and  the  Doctor's  freedom. 

The  Doctor  had  been  amusing  himself  one  day  in  the 
woods,  shooting  srame,  (for  it  will  be  remembered  that  such 
liberty  was  permitted  to  him  on  his  parole.)  when  he  n ar 
row  Iv  esc;'])ed  beiiiir  killed  by  an  Indian,  who  shot  at  him 
from  behind  a  tree,  lie  iinmediatelv  iired  at  the  assailant, 
who  attempted  to  run  off,  and  killed  him.  Five  or  six 
savages  instantly  raised  the  war-whoop,  and  the  Doctor 
was  nearly  seized  hv  ihem.  By  swift  running1,  however, 
he  escaped  into  the  fort,  which  fortunately  was  at  no  <:rea! 
distance,  where  the  French  protected  him  from  the  imme 
diate  vengeance  of  his  pursuers.  The  whole  tribe  of  the 
Otawas,  to  which  the  man  whom  he  had  killed  belonged, 
were  excited  to  revenue,  and  made  such  continued  and  un 
appeasable  demands  upon  the  garrison  for  the  Doctor's 
punishment,  accompanied  with  threats,  if  tliev  persisted  to 
refuse,  that  the  commander  at  length  thought  that  prudence 
required  his  compliance.  The  matter  was  in  consequence 
submitted  to  the  decision  of  a  council  of  twelve,  composed 
one  half  of  French  and  the  other  of  Indians.  The  latter 
insisted  strenuously  that  the  prisoner  should  be  committed 
to  the  ila.me.-:;  and.  after  as  much  resistance  as  diey  could 
possibly  make,  the  French  were  on  the  point  of  yielding  to 
a  compromise  which  had  been  proposed,  of  having  him 
shot,  when  the  approach  of  the  prophet  Tonnaleuka  was 
announced  io  die  council.  The  Indians  received  him  with 
profound  respect,  and  the  French,  on  aecoun;  of  their  ex 
pecting  some  favorable,  result  from  his  visit,  witli  great 
cordiality  and  satisfaction. 

After  some  minutes  of  profound  silence,  during  which  he 
alternately  pointed  his  wand  towards  heaven  and  towards 
the  council  three  times,  his  lips  moving  in  the  meanwhile, 
as  if  lie  were  soliciting  the  dictation  of  a  superior  power,  he 
spoke  as  follows  : 

"  Mv  brothers  of  the  Oiawns  !     Ye  seem  not  at  this  time 


1HE     U  II.DKK.NKSS.  149 

to  ivu.iw  the  will  of  Maueto.  He  has  seal  UK:  here  to  re- 
v  ;il  i;.  This  white  m;ui,  whom  you  would  sacrifice,  has 
killed  one  of  our  brothers.  I  grieve  as  ye  all  do  for  his 
death.  Bui  I  must  tell  you,  ;hat  the  Great  Father  said  he 
tiiould  die  l)v  the  act  of  this  while  man,  for  he  himself  ex 
cited  that  act.  Yes.  I  can  lell  you,  brothers,  that  he  first 
lnvd  at  th.:  white  man,  and  tin;  Grout  Spin',  in  consequence, 
permitted  his  death.  Do  not.  therefore,  brinij  down  upon 
\  on  lie  vengeance  of  Manc,o.  hy  destroying  this  prisoner. 
Whv  should  vou  litrht  against  the  Almighty,  against  the 
G.v.it  Fadier.  Otawas,  you  will  be  wise,  and  do  as  I  am 
ordered  by  Manelo  to  direct  you,  and  pardon  the  prisoner. 
Brothers,  I  hope  you  will  obey  these  directions,  for  I  would 
grieve  much  for  the  calamities  that  will  befall  you,  if  you 
disobey  'h-m.  You  li.i.e  heard  what  1  was  sent  to  say;  1 

licrs,  you  will  attend  to  it.'' 

One  of  the  intli;in  counsellors,  named  Palaro,  replied: 
'•  IVophet  !  ;o  obey  the  directions  of  Maneto,  who  gov 
ern-:  all  things,  is  our  dtitv.  1  believe  his  words  as  they 
have  been  delivered  by  you,  but  all  may  not  believe  them. 
}  ou  say  that  MaiH'to  requires  us  to  let  a  while  man  who 
1  as  killed  an  Otawa,  go  free.  We  have  not  been  accus- 
•  uii.'d  to  receive  such  commands  from  him  when,  we  would 
sacrifice  an  enemv  to  the  spirits  of  the  slain,  and  it  is  hard 
i  )  let  our  brother  remain  unavenged. 

••  {.Jut,  prophet,  hear  your  son  !      Is   it   not   fair,  in   order 

ha!  our  tribe  may  be  convinced  that  pardoning  our  prisoner 

:•;<;•!.!.  to   ask    what   si<rn    vou    can   give   of  your   words 

ihe  words  oi  she  Great  Spin!  .'      \\hen  we  can  say  to 

I'tir  brothers — behold  'he  siun!    they  will  not   blame   us   for 

•_;ivino-  up   tin;    pri,s;n;( •;•. 

••  I'rophet,  you  ha\e  heart!   my  suii'ii'esuon  :    is  it  not  rea- 
1 1 1 1 ;  i !  1 1  e  ' 

Tonnaleuka  no\v  lifted  his  hands  and  eves  towards  heav- 

n.    '.ml  continued  in  this  attitude,  with  his  countenance  ex- 

iM-i-ssive  of  earnest  supplication,  for  several  minutes,  during 

••vhich   all   eves   were  tixed  upon  him   with   mute   attention. 

ile  at  length  spoke  audibl  \  : 

••  Thou  art,  indeed,  liind  and   merciful.      'I'hou   dost  pity 
IK  ir  \veakii(iss,  and  pardon  their  unbelief.      Oh!    that   they 
1  1 


I5U  mi-:    u  II.IM:I:N  HSS. 

U'ere  as  merciful  as  thou  art  !  then  would  such  ilurst  lor 
vengeance  and  for  each  other's  destruction  cease. 

"  Otawas  and  brothers,  hear  me  !  You  have  desired 
proof  of  my  veracitv — a  .-Mini,  by  which  you  mav  he  con 
vinced  that  Maneto  forbids  the  sacrifice  of  this  man.  Were 
ve  not  afraid  that  lie  would  punish  such  presumption?  lie 
would  have  punished  it,  but  shows  himself  merciful,  that 
you  mav  learn  mercy  :  and  he  allows  me  to  ffivo  you  the. 
sign  you  ask. 

'•  Listen  to  me,  brothers  !  There  is  a  hi^h  rock  on  the 
shore  of  Erie,  the  top  of  which  was  rent  last  summer  by 
the  hand  of  Maneto,  when  the  land  shook,  and  the  waters 
trembled  at  the  thunder.  15eneath  that  rock,  you,  Palaro. 
my  brother,  had  then  your  wigwam  :  it.  stood  uninjured 
amidst  the  ao-ony  of  nature,  and  you  were  piously  thankful. 
Brothers!  on  the  third  d;-v  from  this,  let  three  of  your  war 
riors  proceed  to  this  rock.  \  living  eagle  will  be  found 
there,  fixed  in  the  breach  made  by  the  thunder.  Seize 
him — he  will  be  a  sacrifice  to  the  memory  of  your  dead 
brother,  and  a  more  acceptable  one  to  his  spirit  than  this 
prisoner. 

"Brothers!   attend  to  Alaneto.  and  avoid  destruction." 

The  council  determined  to  send  in  search  of  the  eagle. 
and  accept  of  it  ns  a  substitute  for  the  prisoner,  who  Avas 
given  over  to  the  charge  of  the  French,  on  condition  that,  if 
no  eagle  were  found,  he  should  be  without  delay  put  to 
death  in  any  manner  the  Otawas  miyht  desire. 

Three  warriors  were  accordingly  despatched  to  the  rock. 
who,  arriving  there  at  the  time  directed,  found  the  eagle 
exactly  as  Tonnaleuka  had  described;  and  to  the  great  sur 
prise  and  satisfaction  of  the  French,  returned  witli  it  living 
to  Le  Bcruf,  where  the  council  and  a  numerous  party  of  the 
tribe  still  remained,  anxiously  waiting  for  the  result. 

Palaro,  in  the  name  of  the  Otawas,  now  addressed  tin- 
commandant  : 

"Father,  the  Great  Spirit,  who  i?  the  owner  of  al!  thing's, 
has  thought  proper  that  we  should  not  put  the  white  priso 
ner  to  death.  We  submit,  to  his  will,  as  his  good  prophet 
our  brother  Tonnaleuka  desired  us.  We  have  lost  a  broihf  r 
by  the  hands  of  the  prisoner,  but  our  brother  was  himself 


I  111.     WlI.liLKM-.SS.  lf)l 

io  Maine.      Maneto  knew  this,  and   has   not  permitted  us  lo 
'iiirn  the  slayer. 

••  F;il!i  T  !  look  ;u  this  oasrle  ;  it.  has  been  miraculously 
;  Hind  lixed  in  th.?  fissure  ol  a  rock,  which  the  linger  of  the 
<ircat  Father  opened  last  summer.  The  Great  Father  per 
mits  us  to  sacrifice  tins  bird  to  the  memory  of  our  brother, 
in  jilace  of  the.  prison, .T.  \\re  will  obev  him,  we  will  reve 
rence  him,  and  respect  the  voice  of  his  prophet. 

••  Father,  we.  wish  you  lo  let  the  prisoner  go  free." 

The  ductor  was  instantly  liberated  from  his  bonds,  and 
HI  about  lifieen  minutes  beheld  t.ho  unfortunate  eagle  tied  to 
'he  stake  that  had  been  intended  for  himself,  when;  amidst 
a  bla/iiijr  pile  of  fagots  it  was  soon  consumed  in  his  stead. 
Hi1  was,  however,  forbidden  for  the  future  to  be  seen  out 
side  of  the  ramparts. 

During  this  sacrifice.,  the  Indians  chanted  forth  with  great 
fervencv  the  i>lorv  of  Alanelo,  the  praises  of  Tonnaleuka, 
and  the  valor  of  their  deceased  warrior.  The  doclor  wish 
ed  much  to  thank  the  prophet  to  whom  he  owed  so  much  ; 
but  Tonnaleuka  had  left  the  fort  immediately  after  pleading 
his  cause  before  the  council,  and  now  all  he  could  do  was 
to  supplicate  the  deity  for  blessings  upon  his  head.  But 
ihe  prophet  had  not  withdrawn  so  hastily  as  to  prevent 
I'eter  Ale  Fa  11  from  obtaining  with  him  a  short,  but,  to  Pe 
ter,  a  verv  satisfactory  interview. 

I't  icr  was  standing,  a  very  anxious  and  deeply  interested 
spectator  of  the  deliberations,  when  Tonnaleuka  entered 
ddressed  the  council.  He  recognized  him  at  once,  as 
ame  extraordinary  personage  that  had  delivered  his 
m.istiT  from  the  Chippeways,  and  he  immediately  conclu 
ded  that  the  doctor  was  safe. 

••  1  will  ask  him  about  my  master/1  thought  lie  ;  '-whether 
he  took  him  to  tin-  other  world  or  not,  sure  he  won't  be  ;ui- 
iirv  at,  in.-  for  inquirinfj." 

Peter  accordinuh  watched  his  opportunity;  and,  as  the 
piophct  was  hasten! Hi:  towards  the  crate  of  the  fort,  with 
hat  in  liand.be  very  reverentially  approached,  and  addressed 
him  to  the  following  ell'rct  : 

••  Och,  now  !  I  hope  your  reverence  won't  be  angry  with 
nif,  it  I  ask  you  a  civil  <]iiestion  .'" 

'  I, i-t  thai  ciiies!|,)n  be  hrii-f  then.''  --aid  Toim  deuk a . 


152  THE     WILDERNESS, 

"Suppose  now.  1  ask  you  what  you  (lid  with  my  m 
when    you    took   liim  away  from    the  Chippeways — would 
your  holiness  tell  me'"  inquired  Pete;-. 

""\Vhat  is  your  name  my  brother?"  asked  ihe  prophet. 

"Peter  M'Fall,  may  it  please  your  worship  to  com 
mand." 

"And  what  is  your  master's?" 

"  Charles  Adderly,  your  reverence.'' 

Tonnaleuka,  now  whispered  something  into  Peter's  ear, 
which  he  ended  by  enjoinintr  him  to  strict  sccresy  :  adding, 
"  if  you  reveal  it  to  any  one  in  this  garrison,  dread  my  ven 
geance  ! " 

"  INJ ay  your  holiness  blast  me  to  pieces,"  said  Peter, 
earnestly,  "if  I  brea'.he  a  word  of  it  to  any  woman's  son.  or 
daughter  either,  while  I  am  within  twenty  mil;  s  of  ibis 
place." 

But  ere  he  not  the  sentence  finished,  the  prophet  had  tie- 
parted  from  the  fort,  and  Avas  instantly  out  of  siuht. 

"  Agh  !  lontr  life  to  you,  and  arc  you  gone  !  ye  j(  wel  of  a 
prophet  !  I  wish  to  St.  Patrick  that  I  was  only  clear  out  of 
these  Avails  with  you.  I  could  find  the  Shanapin's-town — 
and  then,  ten  miles  up  the  river, — AV]IV,  it  would  scarcely 
be  a  hop,  step,  and  iump,  to  bring  me  to — "But  mum's  the 
word." 

So  saying,  he  gave  an  arch  smile,  and  accompanied  the 
last  expression  with  that  very  significant  gesture  of  slyness, 
the  placing  of  one  of  his  fino-ors  upon  his  nose,  and  then 
leaped  off,  singing  Avith  great  glee — 

"  In  Dublin  so   c.!e\  er, 

liv  Liff'Vs  s\\  ert  ri\  er. 

When  Aloiiy  MuNicklc  was  civil  ; 

With  ki>?in^  and  Jnurrliinsi, 

And  whiskey-punch  quaffing, 

Old  care  I  sent  smack  to  the  devil  !  '•' 

From  this  moment.  Peter  resolved  by  some  means  or 
other,  speedily  to  attempt  his  escape.  He  had  the  determi 
nation  fully  formed  in  his  mind  bv  the  time  the  doctor's 
fate  Avas  decided  ;  and  the  ea<_rle  Avas  not  yet  altogether  con 
sumed  amidst  Ihe  flame,  when  be  accosted  his  fellow-priso 
ner  : 


1H1.     \\lLDKli\K.SS.  I  U,$ 

••  By  my  sowl  !  my  dear  doctor,  but  the  fellow  fries  well. 
Oeh  !  botheration  to  them  that  would  have  roasted  your 
precious  llesh  in  his  stead,  in  that  horrible  bonfire.  Sure, 
now.  i  couldn't  have  stood  to  see  the  fat  melting  from  your 
cracklinir  bones,  like  grease  dropping  from  a  lei:  of  roast 
mutton.  The  devil  take  me  now,  dear  doctor. — don't  be 
frightened." — for  the  doctor  had  actually  turned  pale  at  this 
coarse  representation  of  what  was  so  nearlv  bein<j;  his  fate; 
which  Peter  perceiving,  (rave  him  a  sly  wink,  and  said — 
"Oeh.  now  !  come  a  Ions:,  I  just  want  to  s})dk>:  with  vou, 
to  comtort  vou  a  bit  .' 

So  saving,  he  half  drained  the  doclor  to  a  convenient 
plaee.  where  he  acquainted  him  with  the  determination  he 
had  come  lo,  of  escaping  trom  the  fort,  and  the  ease  with 
wh  eh  he  believed  h"  could  in  three  or  four  davs,  at  furthest, 

•esidenee,  and  invited  him  to  join 
in  the  en!«  \  prise. 

',  he  doc  or  considering  thai,  he  was  now  under  no  obli 
gation  Irom  parole,  and  thai  while  he  continued  in  the  yar- 
rison,  he  was  still  in  danger  ol  some  accident  taking  place 
which  mi  (.Hi  l  ao'ain  expose  him  10  ibe  awful  fate  from  which 
he  had  bei-n  just  saved,  by  an  absolute  miracle,  agreed  at 
one  •  to  ' 'i'1  me  isu re. 

l'ort  !,e  Bir-uf  was  situated  upon  the  bank  of  the  western 
'branch  of  French  ('reek.  ll  occupied  about,  a  rood  of 
(••round,  and  was  sin-rounded  b\  a  stockade  circumvallation, 
made  of  strong  piles  driven  close  io  each  oilier  into  die  earth, 
sharpened  at  the  top.  and  more  than  twelve  feel  hi<rh,  wilh 
port-holes  for  cannon,  and  loop-holes  for  small  arms,  cut 
through  them.  The  garrison,  at  this  time,  consisted  of 
about  two  hundred  men,  whose  cooking,  washing,  tv,c.  lhe,-e 
bein<_r  but.  few  European  wiiiiien  amoiio-  them,  were  princi 
pally  pertormed  b\  squaws,  who  had  learned  a  snialteriin' 
ol  ihe  French  Ian j.'ua.^e. 

:  oiil  of  this  stockade,  \\-as  the  question,  upon 
which  1'eler  .\!  Fall  now  for  about  live  or  six  davs  exer 
cised  his  inirMiuily.  he  end  of  lhai  time,  however,  bv 
din!  ol' personal  explori'itr,  ralher  than  dunking,  he  resolved 
it  to  his  own  satisfaction.  He  had  discovered  a  small  sewer 
••ominencini/  in  the  \;ird  of  a  u  a  :h-!ionse.  v^iiicli  \vas  occu- 
I  I" 


154  THE     VJLDERXF.SS. 

pied  hv  a  numbe;-  of  squaws  in  the  service1  of  the  o-arrison. 
'I'his  sewer  hud  IK-MI  made  lor  the  purpose  of  carrying  olf 
to  the  creek,  the  waste  water  that  had  been  used  in  wash 
ing.  The  distance  from  ils  entrance  to  its  outlet  upon  the 
bank  of  the  creek.  Peter  conjectured  to  be  about  ten  or 
twelve  vards.  il  was  ih;v.u«.'!i  this  passage  '!ia!  he  contem- 

» 

plated  making  his  escape.  it  was.  indeed,  so  narrow,  lie 
perceived,  as  scarcely  to  adinii  his  body:  and  from  the  daily 
flow  of  dirty  water  that  passed  through  it.  it  was  an  abso 
lute  puddle  of  mud,  and  fillhiness.  The  softness,  and  spun- 
inuess,  however,  which  the  l;:!ter  circumstance  occasioned. 
he  calculated  would  facilitate  his  passage,  bv  enabling'  him 
the  more  easily  to  dray  his  body  through.  The  onlv  ob 
stacle  that  perplexed  him,  was  a  strong  iron  oraiin^  dial 
was  fixed  over  ils  entrance.  This,  lie  however  was  deter 
mined  to  overcome  hv  some  energetic  eli'orl.  His  chief 
difficulty  was  in  persuading  the  doctor  as  to  ihe  practiba- 
bility  of  the  scheme.  At  leuulh,  when  the  latter  perceived 
that  no  reasoning  would  prevent  Peter  from  tr\  ino-  it.  he 
determined  not  to  desert  him.  hut  to  assist  all  he  could,  al 
though  he  anticipated  all  the  evil  emiseijuences  of  complete 
failure  and  detection. 

la  pursuance  of  this  resolution,  having  secretly  provided 
a  small  haof  full  of  provisions,  and  a  couple  of  spades,  they 
one  dark  niifht,  about  two  weeks  alter  the  doctor's  rescue, 
when  all  the  garrison,  except  the  sentinels,  had  irone  to 
sleep,  scaled  the  low  wooden  fence  that  surrounded  the 
washer-woman's  vard.  and  commenced  their  operations  by 
dicing  a  hole  close  to  the  irraie,  sufficiently  hi  rue  to  admit 
their  entrance.  As  the  ground  was  soft,  and  Peter  an  ex 
cellent  spadesman,  this  was  only  the  work  ot  about  fiiieen 
minutes,  and  into  the  mud-bottomed  pit  he  plunged,  without 
hesitation,  head-fore:noi;!,  (b'au'iiinu-.  b\  means  of  a  stiou^ 
cord  attached  to  it,  the  bag  of  provisions  after  him.  The 
doctor  had  now  nothing  for  it.  but  to  follow. 

For  the  first  three  or  four  vards,  they  swam  or  paddb'd. 
like  ducks,  in  the  stagnant  water  which  had  here  collected 
to  the  deptli  of  eight  or  ten  inches,  on  account  of  some  de 
ficiency  in  its  fall  towards  the  creek.  But  this  was  t!u 
"•isiest  pnvi  of  their  progress,  for  during  ''"'  rem;nnd"'.\ 


;•  found  tli!1  pass;i<ro  so  sni:ill.  thai  it  required  ;ill  hi: 
perseverance  ;nul  strength,  to  squeeze  himself  forward; 
\\  Inch,  lio\vc\ er.  lie  persisted  in  doiinj.  and  ;it  last,  will; 
incredible  labor,  and  no!  \vithou1  </reat  fjitigue,  and  sorenest 
ni'  both  iloh  ;ind  bones,  lie  arrived  at  the  open  air  on  the 
bank  ol' the  creek.  The  doctor  hein<';  a  smaller  man.  found 
less  dillieulty  in  passing,  especially  as  the  efi'orts  ot'  Peter 
'•leared  the  \vay  lor  linn. 

Although  enveloped  in  a  complete  vesture  of  mud  ant! 
(iii".  our  adventurers  did  not  \vait  to  wash  themselves  in  the 
creek,  but  taking  to  the  woods,  hastened  on  as  speedily  as 
I  he  darkness  and  the  numerous  iindedimenis  of  the  way 
,vould  permit,  towards  the  Allegheny  river.  Daylight  over- 
ook  them  while  yet  in  th;1  intricacies  ol'  the  forest,  when 
iciiiir  lio'h  hunjjry  and  fatigued,  they  thoughl  pi'':per  to 
•'ii|o\  some  ol  such  (are  as  their  bat>-  a.ftorded.  and  then  to 
repose  tliemselves  for  a  few  hours.  \boiit  noon  the\  aifain 
•  ede'j.  ayd  continued  their  journey  till  the  e\enin<r; 
when  resolving  not  to  undergo  the  fatigue  of  anoieer  niiiflit, 
struiril'lino'  amidst  brush-wood,  swamps,  and  fallen  tiudier, 
the\  selected  a  place  of  shelter,  and  by  coilectiiia'  together  a 
ijuaiiiity  ol  (\i~\~  leaves,  made  themselves  as  comfortable  a 
hi-;!  as  thev  could,  on  which  their  fatigue  and  lon»'  wakeful- 
ness,  enal)led  them  to  sleep  soundK  till  the  niornini:. 

Alier  three  da\  s  ii'oi;!'!i  -nine  murnrx  iiso-  m  :!ns  manner, 
during  which,  they  became  some  I  >.\a  :~  a  I  raid  el  nut  hem;/  on 
ilieii'  propel'  course,  the\  arri\cd  at  t!ie  Alle«'lieiH  rivcir, 
a  .-horl  distance  lielo\\'  iis  i'onliuei)(;e  \vith  r'reiich  creek. 
i'Viiin  tlicnce  thev  kept  dosvn  the  stream  of  the  rher  for 
up\\ard.s  ol  lour  days,  and  it  \\as  the  ninth  Irom  their  leav 
ing  iie  lUeul,  before  thev  mel  with  Charles,  as  already 
staled 


I  Hi:     \VII..I)KRNKSS. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

Survev  his  front,  where  wisdom  sits  serene. 
And  the  bright  flashing  of  his  fearless  eve; 

That  gallant  port,  that  rn.iJHstv  of  mien, 

Wind)  promise  needs  ot'  unsurpassed  emprise, 
Such  as  to  minstrelsy  its  fondi-st  theme  supplies, 

And  (in ins  the  j)ulni  th'>  world  may  not  deny. 

Ji.ASK  F:T  01-  SCR  APS 

Tin:  dourest  to  r-ndi  other  are  often  doomed  to  part.  Jt 
is  one  of  the  evils  incident  to  humanity,  and  one  from  winch 
all  th-  ihy  in  'he  world  \vill  not  relieve  us.  The 

best  way,  therefore,  to  meet  ihe  evil  is.  to  do  i;  courageously, 
and  philosophize  no:hing  about  it. 

Charles  Addevly,  on  this  occasion,  did  so;  and  in  conse 
quence,  he  succeeded  in  separating  from  Maria,  with  a 
reluctant  heart,  il  mn-t  l.e  confessed,  bul  not  with  a  des 
ponding  one. 

His  pariy,  consisting  of  himself,  Dr.  Killbroath,  Padclv 
Frazier,  Peier  M'i'';ill.  und  Manliniseh,  their  Indian  oiiide, 
commenced  their  journey  on  the  thir:i  day  ai'cr  I'eier  and 
tli"  !  /nctor  htid  niTived  nt  l-'i-axier's.  Besides  the  iiorses  on 
which  they  rode,  they  had  ;:io:r.r  with  I'ICMII  ihree  others, 
two  of  which  were  laden  with  Paddv's  merchandise,  and 
the  third  with  provisions  and  other  t;-a  \  ellino;  stores.  They 
were  of  course  \veli  armed — foi1  in  those  days,  no  one  ever 
thought  of  attempting  a  journev,  of  even  n  short  distance, 
through  the  Wikler".'-  - -••,  without  being  pro]  irepared 

lor  both  defence  and  attack. 

On  the  third  day  they  crossed  the  Chesnut  Rid  ire,  and 
encamped  that  mirht  between  it  and  the  Laurel  Hill,  in  what 
is  now  called  Li;ronicr  Valley.  As  tliev  were  about  con- 
tinuinir  their  journey  the  next  morning,  they  were  unex 
pectedly  attacked  bv  a  small  party  of  Oiawas.  whom  the 
French  had  despatched  to  scour  the  country  in  pursuit  of 
Peter  and  the  Doctor.  The  savages,  however,  had  given 


THE     WILDERNESS,  157 

their  lire  at  too  great  a  di«t:  nee  to  rio  any  serious  mischief. 

i'wo   nl'  their  shots   feebly   pierced  through  a  package   of 

I'addy's    furs,   and    another    slightly    wounded    one    of   the 

dorses.      The    rest    fell  altogether  harmless.      Eaeli   of  our 

'•\-;\\  ellers   immediately  took   to  a   tree,  and  kept  up  such  a 

well-directed  lire  upon   their  enemies,  when  any  of  them 

;:arecl    to   appear   in    sight,   that    the   latier  thought  proper, 

bout  mid-day,  to  withdraw,  after  having  lost  live  or  six  of 

liieir  number,  who  were  killed  on  the  spot. 

Our  party  then  cautiouslv  proceeded  onwards,  keeping 
tin  nil  direr-lions  a  good  look  out,  which  obliged  them  to 
travel  so  slowly,  that  they  only  reached  the  top  of  the 
Laurel  Hill  that  night.  I  [ere  they  encamped  on  a  spot 
'.vhere  tlic\  could  not  he  easily  surprised,  and  Charles, 
i  qualh  with  ihi1  resl,  took  his  turn  in  wavhin;..'  as  s?en- 
'  ii!-l  (luring  the  nigh;. 

The  savages,  however,  during  ihe  preceding  day,  had 
'-•  d  so  hitler!;,  of  their  intrepidiix  .  that  they  had  no  relish 
>r  more  of  it,  and  they  were  not  molesied  during  the  re 
mainder  of  their  journey,  which  they  performed,  without 
}(•••', innf  with  any  serious  disaster,  in  about  four  weeks. 

The  account  which  Charles  jjave  to  the  Ohio  Company, 
if  ihf  fate  of  their  expedition,  which  he  ascrilied  altogether 
in  the  jealousy  and  management  of  the  French,  made  a  great 
noise  in  the  political  work!,  and  produced  much  excitement 
iliroujjhout  all  the  colonies.  Cut  there  was  none  of  them 
'hat  look  up  the  matter  with  greater  spirit  than  Virginia. 
That  state,  indeed,  did  then,  as  it  does  still,  possess  a  high- 
minded  and  courageous  population,  that  could  not  tamely 
ulimit  to  any  insult  or  encroachment  upon  their  rights  : 
nd  ihe  territory  thus  usurped  by  a  hostile  force  being  then 
•nn<idered  as  within  the  bounds  of  her  charter,  she  felt  her- 
-eif  called  upon  both  to  demand  satisfaction  for  what  had 
ieeii  done,  and  to  take  measures  for  resisting  such  aggres- 
•  ions  lor  the  hit  tire. 

But,  although  die  public  mind  continued,  during  the  whole 

•if  the    spring    and  summer  succeeding    :he    occurrences    we 

,iave    related,    to    receive    Iresh    and    repeated    provocations 

mm  Indian  incursions  upon  the  back  settlements,  especially 

n    the    Virginian    territories,  Vet    the   colonial    governments 


thought  proper  m  delay  making  any  public  effort  to  restrain 
i>r  punish  these  depredations,  until  they  should  receive  in 
structions  ori  the  subject  from  the  govern  men  t  of  CUT;)! 
Britain.  Thev  had  reason,  indeed,  to  presume  thai  the  re 
monstrances  which  they  knew  the  IJritish  ministrv  would 
make  to  the  French  <rovernment,  would  induce  the  latter  to 
recall,  and  perhaps  chasiis.e,  their  Canadian  servants  lor  the 
outrages  they  had  committed  on  the  subjects  of  a  power 
with  which  ihev  wen1  then  in  a  state;  of  peace  and  amitv. 
At  all  events,  ihey  wished  to  bo  fully  authorized  by  their 
own  trovernment  to  make  whatever  opposition  they  should 
find  necessary,  whether  by  force  or  otherwise,  to  put  a  stop 
to  the  unwarrantable  proceeding's  of  the  French. 

\\  itli  respect  to  the  hostile  Indian.-,  small  parties  of  militia 
and  volunteers  were,  indeed,  immediately  employed,  but  in 
a  very  inefficient  manner,  against  them;  and  for  several 
months,  the  terror  and  sufi'eriiitrs  of  the  \  irffinia  back- 
settlers  continued  dailv  to  increase. 

At  length  Mr.  Dinwiddie.  the  (iovernor  of  Virginia,  re 
ceived  intelligence  that  liie  French  government  manifested 
a  very  suspicious  reluctance  to  give  any  satisfaction  to  the 
British  on  the  subject  at  issue,  and  he  was  authorized  to 
use  his  discretion  in  brinirinu  the  auuressors  to  an  account 
for  what  they  had  done.  A  national  war,  however,  at  this 
time  was  not  to  be  wished  ;  at  al!  events,  he  resolved  not 
to  act  rashly  in  kindling  its  (lames,  but.  to  convince  the  world 
that  every  tiling  had  been  done,  consistent  with  the  honor 
and  dignity  of  the  British  crown,  and  the  prosperity  and 
safety  of  its  subjects,  to  prevent  such  a  calamity.  He,  there 
fore,  thought  it  expedient,  before  he  should  have  recourse 
to  actual  force,  to  send  an  envoy  to  the  commander  at  Fori 
Le  BoMif,  to  whose  instrumentality  the  late  outrages  had 
been  particularly  charued,  for  the  purpose  of  demanding 
from  him  in  the  name  of  his  Britannic  .Majesty,  an  expla 
nation  of  his  hostile  conduct  towards  British  subjects,  and 
some  satisfactory  security  that  it  should  not  be  repeated. 

It  was,  at  that  crisis,  very  dfiicult  to  find  any  one  proper 
ly  qualified  for  such  an  embassy,  willing  to  undertake  it, 
a  circumstance  which,  if  the  nature  of  the  country  and  the 
state  of  the  times  be  considered,  will  not  be  thought  surpri- 


VI 


I  III-:      \\  ri.DKUNK.Ss.  I  .>'.' 

ing.  A  distance  of  several  hundred  miles  through  a  track 
less  and  rugged  wilderness  of  woods,  inhabited  only  by 
. avaoes,  the  most  of  whom  had  of  late  become  inveterately 
liostile  to  the  English  name,  had  to  lie  traversed.  Pso  Eng 
lish  white  man  it  was  thought,  could  then  penetrate  into 
these  wilds  and  return  alive,  unless  by  the  aid  of  a  mere 
miracle  ;  for  even  the  traders,  that  had  formerly  been  rather 
invited  than  forbidden  to  frequent  the  country,  and  were  in 
most  instances  kindly  enough  treated  by  the  natives,  had 
latterly  been  often  plundered  and  sometimes  massacred,  for 
no  other  reason  than  their  being  Kngiish.  There  were  in 
Virginia,  no  doubt,  numbers  of  patriotic  and  gallant  spirits, 
whom  danger  alone  could  not  have  deterred  from  the  under 
taking.  But  various  other  motives  operated  on  their  minds, 
.Many  were  opposed  to  the  measure  altogether,  as  betraying 
imbecility,  and  want  of  promptitude  and  wisdom.  They 
exclaimed  against  the  folly  of  sending  such  an  embassy  into 
the  midst  of  a  barbarous  race  of  men,  who  neither  knew, 
nor  cared  for,  the  sacred  character  of  embassadors  ;  and 
alleged,  that  it  was  worse  than  madness,  even  if  the  mes 
sengers  should  happen  to  perform  their  errand  in  safety,  to 
expect  any  favorable  result  from  the  enterprise. 

••  .No,"  said  they,  "if  we  go  at  all  into  the  haunts  of  these 
savages,  let  us  go  sword  in  hand,  and  drive  them  and  their 
chnstian  allies  together  out  of  their  dens  with  the  bayonet 
and  the  rille.  We  should  negotiate  with  such  enemies  only 
with  the  mouths  of  cannon." 

Domestic  concerns  and  family  interference  prevented  oth 
ers,  who  might  not  have  the  same  objection  to  trying  the 
effects  of  negotiation  and  remonstrance,  before  the  drawing 
of  that  sword,  whose  unsheathing  might  involve  two  power 
ful  nations  in  all  the  evils  of  a  tedious  and  sanguinary  war, 

In  short,  (iovernor  Dinwiddie,  after  he  had  decided  on 
the  poprioty  of  the  measure,  found  so  much  difliculty  in 
finding  any  one  qualified  for  the  hazardous  service,  \vdlmg  to 
undertake  it  that  he  began  to  harbour  thought.-'  of  abandon 
ing  the  idea,  especially  as  the  winter  season  was  approach 
ing,  until  the  ensuing  spring. 

As  he  was  one  day  in  his  private  apartment,  meditating 
with  considerable  anxiety  on  'bis  subject,  he  was  informed 


160  THE      WlLUi:il.\fcSS. 

that  a  very  respectable  looking  younu'  man  n;qu;: -ted  admit 
tance  t()  Ins  presence.  The  jMivernor  desired  luiii  lo  he; 
shown  into  ;t  front  cnamber,  where  he  in  a  lew  minutes  at 
tended  him. 

The  governor,  although,  as  we  have  i-een,  Ins  mind  had 
been  rendered  unea:-y  l>y  contemplating  the  unfortunate  as 
pect  ol' a  favorite  and  importan't  measure,  saluted  the  strati 
j'er  with  much  complaisance  :  lor  notwithstanding  his  youth, 
being  appaiently  not  ab;>ve  twenty  years  of  a>re,  there  was 
in  his  manner  and  aspect  an  air  of  dignity  and  intelligence, 
with  which  the  u'overnor  was  struck,  and  before  winch  any 
feelino;  of  ill-humor  that  miylit  have  ari.<  n  I'rom  the  un 
pleasant  nature  of  the  reflections  from  which  he  ii-.nl  been 
interrupted  entirely  yave  way. 

As  this  younir  man  will  make  a  considerable  fiirure  during 
the  remainder  of  this  history,  it  is  presumed  that  a  descrip 
tion  of  his  appearance  on  this  occasion  will  not  be  unac 
ceptable  to  the  reader. 

His  stature  was  exactly  six  fee',  and  bis  form  a  happy 
medium  between  the  usual  slenderness  of  youth  and  the 
more  rounded  muscularity  of  manhood.  His  chest  \yas  al 
ready  somewhat  full  and  expanded,  as  if  to  make  room  for 
a  ii!  eial  and  capacious  heart.  His  limbs  were  in  just  pro 
portion  to  the  rest  of  his  frame,  and  so  free  aud  uninciim- 
bered  in  nil  their  motions,  as  to  o-ive  a  peculiar  frraceliilness 
lo  ins  irait  and  o-cstures.  His  shoid.ie:^  were  broad,  but 
finely  shaped,  and  harmonizing  so  well  witli  ihe  stateliness 
and  ju:  i  symmetry  of  tiie  f-ther  jiarts.  of  ins  ii^'ire,  as  to  im 
part  to  the  wiiole  an  extraordinary  decree  of  dignity  and  ma 
jesty  of  mien;  and  indicating,  ul  the  same  time,  sir.' 
hardihood,  and  activtiy. 

With  respect  to  his  countenance,  if  ever  ihere.  was  uiie 
that  expressed  hue  nolileiies?  and  masJiianimity  of  SIM.;!,  it 
was  his.  It  was  of  the  oval  lorm,  witii  a  remarkably  lnsih 
forehead,  which  was  open,  serous,  kind,  and  candid.  His 
sparkling  blue  eyes  displayed  the  fire  of  pa-sion,  combined 
with  the  coolness  of  wisdom,  while  the  movements,  of  his 
d  the  beholder,  that  in  eveiy 


1  HE     WILDERNESS.  161 

partaking  of  both,  and  it  was,  perhaps,  this  feature  which 
mo-t  forcibly  impivs-ed  the  beholder  with  the  idea  of  his 
fearle*-;  intrepidity  and  umii  \  iating  intc^riiy.  But  it  was 
in  the  expression  of  his  mouth  that  the  benevolence,  gener 
osity,  and  tenderness  of  his  nature  weic  chiefly  to  be  seen  ; 
for  his  were  lips  to  which  no  one,  could  ever  impute  the  utter 
ance  of  falsehood,  calumny,  or  even  unnecessary  censure. 
Mi*  chin  wa<  muscular,  round,  and  full,  but  agreeably  cor 
responding  with  ihe  general  conionr  of  his  cnunK'nance. 
As  to  iiis  complexion,  it  was  at  this  time  slightly  sunburnt, 
but  stili  affording  a  pleasant  mixture  of  that  fa i rues-!  and 
ruddines:-  which  is  so  becoming  in  youth,  am!  which  j/ener- 
nllv  betokens  an  originally  healthy  and  still  unbroken  con 
stitution. 

His  dress  was- at  once  modest  and  Dented,  affecting  in  no 
par  icular  eitin  r  to  despise,  or  to  be  fastidiously  imitative  of 
the  fashion  of  th"  day.  It  was  neither  <jamly,  nor  slovenly, 
but  such  as  a  -jentleMian  u  !io,  while  he  does  not  despise  his 
person,  seems  conscious  that  liis  mind  i*  his  better  parl, 
lui^ht  be  expected  to  wear.  When  we  h.ive  said  this,  and 
wi  en  we  add  that  it  was  a  mourning-dress,  (for  this  young 
gentleman  had  lately  :->uve,cded  to  the  ample  estate  of  a  de 
ceived,  tenderly  beloved,  and  much  lamented  f-ldt-r  In-other,) 
the  reader  \vi!!  eas>i\  ii^i.iM!  it  to  himself,  without  our  giving 

f  \  irgini.i,    and  descend- d  from  oiie  of 
'ct.'.ble   f:imi!i'.-  in    that   iTovhve  :    but  in  the 
•nior  Dinwiddie  on  this  occasion,  such  a  youth 
deanv  family  te^pectable.     f!i-:  name  was — 
i-\ci'o\ — ,i  n  i:ne  \viiieii  i.-,  L:OW  svnonyn 
virlue,   >.:sd  to  pronounce  \vhicii  is  to  <  ido^i/.". 
After  the  usual  salutation  w.s  over,  Mr.  Wt^litngton  pro- 
sented  an  introductory  letter  from  a  valued  friend  of  the  gov 
ernor,  wh  >   immediately   read  it  as   follows  : 

"May  it  plea-e  your  Excellency, 

"This    letter   will  be  handed  to  you  by  Mr.  George 

"U  a-hington,  of  Mount  V  >-rnon,  a  young  gentleman  of  whom 

1  doubt  not  report  has  airc.idy  spoken  favorably  to  you.     For 

my.-elf,  1  profess  to  feel  a  high  respect  fur  his  promising  ta- 

15 


tents,  and  a  still  higher  for  tint  stead}  c  onduet,  unsullied  va- 
tue,  and  :;troiiL>'  sense  oi  honor  v.diic,h  have  hitherto  marked 
his  character. 

'•To  speak  thus  decisive!}  in  behalf  of  so  youn;;-  a  man, 
ma}  seem  to  your  excellency,  to  be  a  somewhat  overstrained 
recommendation,  but  if  I  know  any  thtiiH  of  the  character,--  of 
men,  1  am  convinced  that  in  giving  credit  to  Mi1.  Vfa-hrisj- 
ton  for  ail  die  virtues  a;;d  talents  my  language  may  ascribe 
to  him,  yen  wil  1  yi  ursell  deci  iv<-d. 

'•Tne  ardor  oi'  liis  patriotic  feelings,  logeth  r  with  his 
commisciating  the  distresses  tnuKr  which  <>ur  back-settlers 
now  labor,  and,  no  doubi,  a  hiudahh.1  ambition  to  signalize 
himself  in  doing  <j;ood  to  his  country,  induce  h:ui  to  solicit 
w!rr.  he  is  •  !:n  !  so  r  name  aud  pre- 

tensions  have  lately  reft;  -inmesit  of  envoy  to 

the  French  commandant  ai  J.e  Bcrni. 

'•Should  it  p!  ur  excellency  to  /oni'ide  to  him  die. 

management  oi'  that  arduous  and  important  mission,  1  am  pi  r- 
suaded  that  young,  and  consequently  inexperienced,  as  lie, 
is,  you  v.  ill  have  no  reason  to  regret  having  done  so  ;  lor,  I 
believe,  that  il  prudence,  intrepidity,  and  perseverance  in 
the  attainment  of  the  public  good  can  succeed,  whatever  en 
terprise  he  con;!ucts  must  be  successful. 

"  1  have  the  honor  to  be,  your  excellency's  sincere  friend 
and  most  obedient,  humble  servant. 

"Why!  3,Ir.  Washington,"  observed  the  governor,  when 
he  had  done  reading,  "  this  is  really  a  complimentary  letter, 

but  Mr.  is  a  good  judge  of  characters,  and  I  believe,  he 

has  not  mistaken  yours.  Your  brother  was  a  brave  man, 
true  to  his  country,  and  I  think  that  you  cannot  be  inferior 
to  him.  AVhen  would  it  suit  you  to  go  on  tins  mission  '.  '' 

'•  At  a  day's,  warning,  whenever  your  excellency  ordeis —  " 

'•Suppose — let  me  see — this  is  Tuesday  the  23d  day  oi 
October.  In  a  week  from  this  date  could  you  be  ready  !" 

"To-.,  orrow  —  to-day — ibis  hour — and  at  all  hours,  i  am 
at  the  service  of  niv  country.  You  are  her  monarch's  re 
presentative  ;  order  me  when  you  choose.  But  if  I  might 
suggest  any  thing  in  tin..;  matter,  it  would  be  promptitude 
and  expedition — Your  excellency  is  aware  thai  the  reason 
requires  it.  " 


••  \  ounjr  man  !  my  friend  has  not  been  mistaken  in  his 
n  itc  of  your  c'haractf  r.  \  our  ardor  in  this  case  is  wis 
dom.  \  our  i  ountry  has  been  fortunate  ir,  giving  you  birth ; 
for  I  perceive,  ii'  heaven  spanks  you,  that  you  will  lie  holh 
her  bles-ini;1  and  b.cr  b.nast.  Had  I  known  of  you  only  t\vo 
inon'hs  .-ooner,  this  mission  might  now  have  boon  suceess- 
fiiHy  t'  rmimited  :  but  name  your  ilav,  and  ever;,'  thins;  shall 
•  iviilecl." 

"  h  is  your  excellency's  riuht  to  name  it." 

"  "\Vell,  then,  lei  it  bo  this  day  week;  your  commission 
iiV'tructio  he  iimnediatelv  prepared.  Bui,  toll 

mo,  h.'Ve  you  thought  of  the  dangers  and  diftieu! 

••  i  have  thouo-lu  of  thtMii  seriously,  sir." 

••And  they  dont't  make  you  hesitato  ?'1 

••  -Xn'.hin-r.  I  Irusf,  will  (;ver  make  me  hesitato  to  do  my 
duty." 

'•  I  am  satisfied,"  observed  the  (governor.  "It  lias  been 
perhaps  fortunate  ;hat  ;!;;:  perils  of  the  undertaking  have 
deterred  others  from  en^air'nn:  in  it  whose  services  I  should 
have  ii'atHy  accepted.  Til  -  deluv  may  not  have  been  lost 
to  our  eoun'.ry,  sine;;  it  his  brouijht  you  i'orward  to  her  ser- 
viee  ;  a.nd  iliat  backwardness  to  serve  in  this  ease,  which  1 
!f  a;i  hour  a^o  lamented  as  an  evil,  may  in  reality  turn 
o.it  to  be  a  ';:  ueiit.  M  v  voun^  frieiul,  1  shall  now  detain 
you  no  lono  '.•,  Is'il  shall  be.  sjlail  if  von  eome  to  s[)ei;.i  the 
evening  whh  me." 

••  \V i ih  your  excellency's,  permission,  I  should  rather  re 
turn  to  Mount  \  ern on  to  aiT.uun:  some  matters,  so  that 
nothing  on  mv  'part  mav  retard  the  expedition." 

•'You  can  return  to-morrow  :  on,;  day  wilt  make  no  dif- 
ferenci.',  and  you  will  have  .-uiii/ient  time  to  be  back  here  in 
a  week.  If  von  sliould  !je  a  day  longer,  it  will  not  be  ciiar^- 
•  •d  upon  yon." 

••  ^  our  excellency  wiii  excuse  me:  but  1  cannot  remain 
to-iii  .  IK;  that  some  public  business  requires  mv 

n 


THK     \VILDI-:n\KSS. 

embark  in  ibis  service — a  single  evening  will  be  of  no  con 
sequence." 

"  I  should,  indeed,  feel  happy  and  honored  in  your  excel 
lency's  society,"  observed  the  young  hero.  "  hut  1  am  now 
•lie  service  \vhich  requires  expedition  ; 
and  I  confess  that,  unless  my  going" off  instantly  to  make 
pro- j-,:i-  []  (jive  von  more  displeasure  than,  if  I  have 

rnv  knowledge  of  your  character,  I  think  it  will,  I  should 
mud!  rathe  r  depart;  for  I  must  ever  make  it  a  rule,  that 
when  duty  is  to  he  performed,  no  time  should  be  lost  upon 
pleasure." 

"My  friend,"  replied  Dinwiddie,  "be  ever  thus  proof 
against  temptation.  I  esteem  you  the  more  tint  you  have 
resisted  MV-  wishes  on  this  r;  tint.  He  as  expeditious  as  you 
please,  and  inoy  heaven  prosper  vonr  zeal  !  I  shall  trv  to 
imitate  you  in  getting  evcrythinir  read}-  without  d 

Washington  no\v  withdrew,  -and  immediately  hastened 
home  to  make  the  best  use  lie  could  of  his  time,  in  both 
arranging  his  private  affairs  and  in  providing  for  1he  per 
formance  of  his  public  duty. 

When  lie  was  out  of  s|fjht4  Dinwiddie  could  not  h^lp 
exclaiming — "Admirable  young  man!  you  will  yet  he  of 
more  service  to  Your  countr  than  n  thousand  mines  of 


niAPTFtt  XVI. 

is  a  tic,  \vl  '    fore;' 

The  power  of  lengthened  years  defies; 
There  is  a  ihoicj;1!!  wliose  stayless  course 

A  dearer  tide  of    :  ie  suppi  ics, 
}  han  sivcs  to  other  thoughts  their  source  ; 
And  davs  oi'glootn  may  intervene, 

Like  ocean's  waves  it.-  ili^hi  to  stay, 
\nd  distant  climes  may  come  between— 

Thev  cannot — mils!    nut — check  its  way! 
And  there's  a  cord  \\hich  love  entwines 

I  nconscionsly  roand  kindred  hearts, 
\Viii:-ii  length  of  absence  hut  refines, 

A  nd  death  aione  forc\  er  pa  rts. 

r.T  OF   SciiArs. 

How  it  is  that  the  female  heart,  when  in  love,  can  more 
successfully  control  us  affections,  at  least  the  display  of 
when  their  object  is  present,  and  snmof  with  all  his 
miirht,  for  soni.-  little  symptom  of  reciprocal  fondness — than 
when  he  i.-  absent,  and  cannot  witness,  and,  consequently, 
cannot  LMIJOJ  such  endearments — !  will  not  stop  to  explain; 
and,  perhaps,  for  tlie  very  o-oe.d  reason,  that  I  cannot  do  i', 
to  my  own  satisfaction.  \}\\\.  I  ean  state,  that  alien1  Charles 
Addcrly  s  departure  h'om  (he  \\  ilderness,  Maria  I''razier 
experienced  that  .-he  possessed  this  feminine  .jnalitv  in  per- 


llc  \v;is  not  man\    '  mo,  wlien  his  ima^e  took  sneh 

lid!  and  lorcihle    [lossosion    of   her    mind,  iha.!   \vhelher   she 
Hied  iiy   niii'ht,  or  meditated  by  day,  that  linage   was  s;iil 
|;ie--i.'ni  \\  i:ii  her.      li  haunted  her  in  her  rambles,  it  eno-rtiss- 
ed    I  ,  .mil    disturbed    her   .!  'votions  ;    and    whether 


her,  an;i  wiia!  wa>  i;i  ,dl  respects  as  extraordinary,  she  never 
wished  il  >,  .-he    rhei  i-hed    ii   I'  ee!]\    in    he;- 

he, 111;    it  u'a.-  .    care,  her  onlv  comlort,  and  lier  only 

I  oy.      Tho'iiJih    .-h:,1    daied  hardly  venture  to  expect  that    she 
!:V 


166  THE     WILDERNESS. 

should  ever  see  him  rurnin,  ye)  sh<'  iHt  thai  without  him  the 
Y\  ildcrness  was  cheerless,  life  insipid,  and  the  \\  orhi  a  blank. 
II<jr  fears  'lint  he  si  .rn  were  vrt  it,  hut  ihey 

arose     P.O!      !10   :i  -         •n-(.'tli)'_r    the     r-incenly    1111(1     Ull- 

changeahleness  ve  for  her,  bin  from  the  numerous 

knew  HO  mi!?;  eiu'ounlor  and 

o\e.reome  lieloie  he  could  relrare  ihe  dread  and  savai/e- 
haunted  wilds  that  now  separated  them. 

She.  however,  succeeded  tolerably  well  in  ce'ici'alinir 
the.-e  feelings  Ironi  the  observation  of  all  her  friends,  except 
Nancy,  who,  perhaps,  on  account  o  bem<j  actuated  by  some 
feelings  of  the  s;Miie  kind,  for  a  difFerenl  object,  hi;;  one  also 
now  at  a  distance,  the  UK. re  readily  sr.r-pected  her  sisier  ;  or, 
if  it  he  true,  that  the  pap<rs  ol  love  a>c  always  relieved  bv 
lieinir  poured  i:ito  the  ("M"  of  a  confidant,  .Maria  may  have 
voluntarily  intrusted  her  with  her  scere!. 

\\illi  respect  to  ^Nancy's  own  case,  Dr.  Killbreath  had 
found  means,  during  h,is  short  abode  with  her,  not  onh  to 
'.:onvin<  e  her  '.'•  <',  she  possesse  !  his  h-.-ari,  ixit  ;.lso  to  obtain 
n,i^s(-ssion  of  hers.  In  cons:  •!  tlii-,  although  the; 

feeling  with  which  she  remembered  the  doctor  was  not  so 
very  deep  and  acute  as  that  with  which  M-irh  remembered 
Charles,  yet  it  was  sufficient  to  make  her  sympathize  >o 
sincerely  with  her  si.-ter,  as  induced  the  latter  to  coniide  her 
r-orrowf,  and  her  love,  !e.  her  secres\-.  ."Nancy  returned  the 
favor  by  a  reciprocal  confidence,  which,  perhaps,  did  more 
to  keep  alive  the  doctor's  interest  in  h"r  heart,  by  occasion 
ally  affording  her  opportunities  to  talk  of  him,  than  any  im 
pression  his  addresses  while  with  her  had  made. 

.Maria's  affection  fur  Charles  Adderly  did  not  require  any 
such  stimulus  of  conversation  to  preserve  it,  during  his  ab 
sence,  from  decay.  1 1  was  an  affection  which  no  tune  no;- 
distance  could  diminish,  for  it  was  planted  in  a  mind  as  con 
stant,  lender,  sincere,  and  unchangeable  in  its  attachments, 
as  any  woman  ever  possessed.  It  mio-ht,  perhaps,  lie  for 
this  reason,  that,  although  she  felt  more  acutely,  she  talked 
less  freely,  on  the  subject  of  her  feeling  than  Nancy.  Nay, 
sometimes  she  felt  more  enjoyment  in  meditating  alone  upon 
her  lover's  perfections,  as  they  appeared  to  her  imagination, 
than  in  conversing  about  them,  But  often  the  disposition 


r  H  E    w  1  1  ,  n  K  R  M  .  s  K  .  1  6  7 


. 

I  p  wards  of  four  months  passed  on  in  this  manner,  and 
.Maria  had  not  heard  from  her  lover,  for  Paddy  had  not  yet 
returned  from  Philadelphia,  and  she  was  becoming  very  un 
easy  ;o  ascertain  his  safely. 

••Surely,"7  thought  she,  -if  they  had  reached  Philadel 
phia  alive,  Paddy  would  have  returned  before  now,  and  1 
should  have  heard  of  Charles.  The  Indians,  alas  !  hated 
him  —  ihev  may  have  taken  him  —  they  may  have  put  him 
to  death,  a  cruel  death,  when  Tonnaleuka  could  not  be  near 
to  save  him.  It  is  true  the  prophet  has  discovered  that  the 
marauders  were  disappointed  in  their  attempt  near  the  Laurel 
(lill  —  but  they  may  have  succeeded  elsewhere,  for  it  was  a 
lon<:'  Wilderness  they  had  to  traverse.  Heaven,  grant  thai 
my  tears  may  be  unfounded  !" 

At  length,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  Frazier's  family.  Paddy 
arrived,  accompanied  by  J)r.  Killbreath,  whose  desire  to 
revisit  Nancy  had  rendered  him  easily  persuaded  to  join 
her  luother  in  trading  wi'.h  the  Indians.  Thev,  there-lore, 
brought  with  them  in  partnership  a  large  and  valuable  as 
sortment  of  goods,  not  only  suited  lor  the  Indians,  but  also 
fur  the  French,  with  whom  Paddv  was  desirous  to  open  a 
trade,  because  lie  expected  thai  it  would  be  lucrative.  and 
that  it  might  be  the  means  of  preserving  their  friendship, 
which  he  was  very  anxious  to  secure,  since  they  were  now 
become  the  lords  oi  the  i'orest.  As  ;o  the  danger  the  doctor 
was  in  of  falling  again  into  iheir  hands,  he  believed  that  it 
could  be  ea-il\  remo\ed.  by  a  present  to  the  commandant 
at  l,e  IJu'uf.  willi  a  declaration  that  the  doctor  wished  to 
s  tile  as  a  trader  in  the  \Yilderiiess,  under  the  French  pro- 
tt  ction. 

Near  the  North  "Mountain  they  met  with  several  Indians 
who  would.  ;;o  duiiht,  have  ait;ickeil  and  plundered,  and 
perhaps  massacred  them,  ban  MMIIO  oi  them  not.  known 
Padd\.  who.  speaking  tiieir  language  freelv,  managed  mat 
ters  so  well  \\r,h  tiieni.  ihat  ihe.v  agreed,  for  a  present  of  a 
few  blankets  and  some  trinkets,  to  escort  him  home, 


ii'  IVmcy  was  rejoiced  to  see  her  dear  doctor  come  back 
ao'ain,  IIP  w;-s  no  less  so  to  find  hi  in- -'If  once  more  safe  under 
her  1'atlifr's  roof,  with  the  prospect  oi'  beini>-  permitted  lo 
remain  there  unmolested  b\  either  l!ie  Fn-nch  or  Indians. 

Bui  the  pfrcn     source   of   Maria's    \»\    \ 
she  !io\\'  had  of  IK  r  lover'  .      He  had   transmit! 

her  a  ]  \  ariou.s  books  ol'  :  •  :,.  such  as 

of  .Pope,  Tho:i:-Jon.  Addis:)!1 
lie    knew  she    ls:ui    1101    seen,  and   was    , 

'J'here    were    :;i  '  '-.•  \  aiue,  as 

jewelry,  articles   of  dross,  &c.,  which    n  '   :  particu 

larized.      The  c   had   be<  u   inii'usted  to  the   care   of   i 
Killbreath.  \vho  punci.ialh   obeved  his  :,  liaiul- 

insr  them  to  h>  r  in  private.      Hut  the  <nl;  whii-h  afforded  li"i- 
l)v  iar  the  jjrea ,  • 

by  her  Cl  n  ];a n;i. 

'  In  l!  ,  -etl  ;;i  r  of  or   of 

!li:-    ](>•-(  .    \,  1     h:!:l    CXI 

to   the  \Y ;' 
duties 

thai  durin  ;'  the   summ<  ;•   lie    should    be        '. 
most  ig  ]n-r.      In    tin 

meantime,  lie  exhoned,  !;••   conjured   lier,  ;*>  constancy   and 
ice   ii1    ch.          .  .  il  was   !.i- 

onl\   ; 

Uui,  reader,  -.  ou  luiv<    .' 
and  many,  [xn'haps, 

ceived.      To    detajn    you,    therefot  I     :       •  of   die 

sentiments  ront;;ined   :,;   those   of  C!:a  '  iy,  (for  t!ie 

sentimental   [tarts  of  all  L 

nine-tenths   (>f   [heir  rontenls,  are  v<>rv  much   alike. 
be    no    treat.      i!;;;    as   love  had  made    .  ,   ;hinu'   (•;'  . 

poet,  and  i:;    h;  .1  ;;    fc;w   vt'rses  in  one  of  these  !e;- 

ters.  m  praise  of  his  f;ur  one,  (a  thin;.;'  v.liicii  n\ery  \vriKM 
of  love  letters  cannot  do,)  I  shall  take  the  lihertv  of  submit 
ting  them  to  your  perusal.  These  verses,  although  far  Iron: 
!)ein<r  of  first-rate  excellence,  arc  at  least  no  worse  than  die 
rh\  mes  which  many  a  love-sick  gentleman  lias  tiiou^ii 
proper  to  string  too-nher  in  compliment  to  his  mist.-;' 


nn:    \vn.Dnn\Kss. 

i'.ut  he  tliev  good  or  had.  since  Charles  Adderly  wrote  them. 
I   think  1  may  he  permuted  to  print  them. 

To  'Maria. 

Maria  ;  i<  ;f  eld!d. 

Sweet  tiowret  .  .int  wild  ! 

Wh'Mi  firsl    .  y  ravish'd  eves, 

How  leapt  my  bosom  witli  surprise. 
To  tind  tinil,  in  !':(    desert  waste. 
Nature,  \vith  cr.rt  ,          ...  l;ad  p'aeed 
The  loveliest  plant  that  over  irrew, 
To  warm  the  heart,  and  charm  the  view  ! 

Ah  !    fov.'  but  hr:  'nose  days, 

Wiien  f,n  your  charm  ".'i/c  ; 

With  heart  enraptured  ul  the  '-i'rht. 

Ird  w  ,th  pas 
1'or  ne'er  e'-uld  ]   belli 
That  woman  l.ii'1  sue1!  charms  in  store, 
\  • 

'III    J  ::«-'::> 

May  fo:-tuu<'  bear  :no  soon  i 

To  where  von  trt  •  MI  rei^n  ; 

\Vhero,  blest  om  ';1  \ie\.   your  r.Iiarms, 

Feel  t!i-"  sweet  pressure  of  your  arms. 

As  ;!i;-ori'!i  •,  jiir  native  woods  we  rove. 

And  L'i\f-  our  li"arts  mid  souls  to  love: 

Till  then,  my  onlv  !ho'n:iit  thou'It  l>e  ; 

'J'iicn  tii::ih  oi'me- — and  nor.e  but  :.ie  ! 

The  summer  months  passed  without  any  remarkable  oc- 

•  .irrence    happening   *o   ail'ect  the   fortunes   of  .Maria.      Her 
a;'its  of  household  rural  employments  were  attended  to  as 

i.  hut  her  srciv!  thoughts  were  altogether  occupied  with 

the  idea  of  him  who  loved  her  so  warmly  and  tenderly,  and 

'."horn,  she  did   not   now  ail'ect   to   conceal  from  herself,  she 

l'>ved  with  equal- warmth  and  tenderness.      The    perusal   of 

ie  hook*-;,  hut  more  particularly  Hie  idlers  he  had  sent,  her, 

ccupied  the  chief  portion  of  her  leisure  hours ;   and  on  some 

.occasions,  hut    not   olien.  she  would  indulire  her  feeliujjs   hv 

;:ilkino-  ahout  him  to  her   sister.      On   such    occasions,  how- 

'•\er.  she  still  look  care  not  to  dwell  long  upon  the  dangerous 

•  iih|ect,  lest  she  inijjhl  express  hersell    more  ardently  in  his 
'a\or,  than  her  (leliraln  views  of  propriety    would  altogether 
'V  arrant. 


It  \v;;s  one  beauiifu!  oveninir  iu  No\ember,  ]75:i,  the 
Indian  Summer  beimf  then  in  all  its  ciiorv  and  sweetness, 
thai  tliese  two  vouno-  women  \valkcd  upon  ihe  bank  ot"  the 
Mononofahela.  Charles  Adderlv,  I<r.  Killbreaih,  and  some 
Indian  transactions,  \vere  the  chieJ'  Ionics  01'  their  conver 
sation. 

"f  am  not  sure  whether  I  could  wish  Air.  Adderly  io 
visit  us  this  1'all  ot  not,"  observed  Maria — "the  French  dis 
like  him  so  much,  that  they  miuhi  instigate  ihe  sava^i  •  lo 
];is  destruction.  Oh,  JNancy  !  what  a  barbarous  and  blood 
thirsty  people  we  live  a  mono'.'" 

"1  can  say  but  hide,"  replied  ,~Nanc\,  "in  !';r,  or  oi'  ih< 
Indians  when  they  u'o  out  lo  war,  or  when  ihev  lake  pris 
oners,  lor  .Dr.  .Killbreath  says  that  they  have;  then  little 
mere)  oil  men,  women,  or  children.  But  1  think  .Mr. 
Mr.  Adderh  could  dwell  here  lony  (>nou«h  without  th.  ii 
knowledjjc  :  anil  Tonnaleuka,  you  know,  could  protect 
him." 

••Tonnaleuka  cannot  Inx  everywhere,"  said  Maria. 
has  ol'ien  to   be   at  a   ;^reat   distance.  amoni>'   the  contendin 
tribes,  o-ivin-r  them  conns;-!,  and  sei;lin;r  tlii-i.'  disputes  :    and 
ilie  Indians  are  tar  more  exasperated  this  season  a«'ain 
J'lnolish,  ilian  tliev  overwore   before.      Hut   if   is    before   !nr 
arrives    liere.  that   danger  is   chieily  to  be  dreaded.      If  the 
a\;:i;-es  find  him  crossing  any  of  the  mountains,  alas!   i  l'i  ar 
iis  destruction  will  bc>  inevitabk-.      [  am  sometimes  tempted 
to  pray  that  he  mav  nor  venlure  to  come,  at  least  until  tin  se 
outrageous  times  be  past." 

"Truly,"  observed  Nancy,  "it  would  be  better  that  lie 
should  not  attempt  to  visit  you,  than  that  he  should  'he 
killed.  'But  both  Paddy  and"  Dr.  Killbreaih  say,  that  the 
white  people  would  have  no  occasion  to  fear  so  much  from 
the  Indians,  if  they  would  only  treat  them  kindly,  and  not 
attempt  to  cheat  them,  or  wrest  their  lands  from  them,  as 
they  do." 

"  But  Charles  Adderlv  never  cheated  them,"  replied 
Maria,  "nor  had  lie  taken  any  land  from  them  by  force 
when  they  attacked  him  last  year,  and  were  'roinii-  to  sacri 
fice  him.  \h!  I  fear  much  1'or  him,  for  the  Krcnch  now 
hate  him  thoroiijfhlv:  and  from  their  haired  there  is  less 


i  H 


'•  li  ;••  hard  to  i  r  he  would 

onsu'iit  to  do  v.'l  dour  :    make  friends 

of  the  French,  and  liv<  their  protection.      Jf  he 

would  do  fins.  T  think  ail  wt  ',ii:!  i);1  safe,  and — " 

o  !"   c -xcbimed   Maria,  "  ('harleri    \ddorly  never  will 

stoop  to   such  a  tliM!;!1.      !    know  him  t.o  IK   too  dignified   in 

his   sentiments   for  that.      i'e  considers  ihi;  i'iv'ieh  the  ene- 

••   of  his   couulrv,  ,    ssuc.Ji    h  •    n  'vcr   \viil    cr;ivo 

'. i.     !   nc.   if  hi     I'oiiH1    at   ;;[|,  li  \\  ill  lie   ciilicr 

,:    llu'ii1  ciniiiN  ;    '.:  apfes   and 

.    1    four,    li  ;i"i    liivir    iM  \  ;:(.rcs    in'o 

. •;  '.ilciiic;,'  i.sl\  iind  do.structivcly,  not  to 

nnide  everv  one  of  ihat  nation  thr.ii1  enemy." 
••  Why,  ih.at  cannot  be!"  obscrvrd  Nancy,  "for  L-L-.  Kill- 
•  ;--d  he   HONV  lives   here   with  us   as  th;; 
li'iem!  oi  the.-  i  'rcnch.'' 

'• 'J'iic   doctor's  love  i:>r  you,"  returned  Maria,  '-has   in- 

duced   him   in   this  :; flair,  i   am   persuaded,  to  act  contrary 

otli  H/  jus  inclination  and   judgment,      ii;;   has   become  an 

exception  to  ilie  conduct  that  all  the  rest  of  his   nation    \viii 

|)t,  \\hicli  i  know  ('liarles  Addcrly  will  n;-ver  become." 

••  I'm  sure  vou  know,"    said   iSancy,   ••that  Mr.  Adderly 

1     as   much    in    love,   and   as   desirous   to   live    here,  as   ];i\. 

->  dlhreath  :    and    whv    shouldn't    he   as   well   as    the    doctor 

refer  Jo\  e  to  politics  ?" 

••  !;< cause,''  said  Maria,  '-it  v/ould  be  prclerrin^  p-rivate. 
iii  rest  to  public  dul\,  whicii  diaries  never  wdl  do." 

".I /a!  now,"  cried  INancy,  "1  cannol  believe  ihai  yon 
.iink  so.  i-'on't  you  suppose  that  Mr.  Adderlv  would  [irc- 
•i  you  to  all  ihe  1'rencii.  and  all  llu;  Indians,  and  all  the 
.'i..!:^h  into  ih:1  li;,  :•..>;;(  in,  in  tlie  w<;rid  .'" 

"1  ha'.e  jio  riyht,"  said  Maria,  "to  suppose  anv  such 
•  lino-.  i\,\\.  ii  he  did  so,  it  would  be  \erv  wrong,  and  1 
;.o  in;i  think  i  should  esieem  him  so  much  it  1  thought  him 
.  apabie  ul'ii." 

".Now,  fjurely,"  return  •(!  Nancy,  with  a  look  ol  inc-redu- 
lii.),  "vou  caiiii()i  i,;1  serious.  Whai  harm  has  1/r.  Kill- 
hc-ralli  done  h\  inrtkinj;-  frieinl.>  of  the  i'lvnch  '.  \nd  sun-  i 


172  I  HI.     WILDERNESS. 

must  like  him  the  better  for  dom<r  it  on  uiv  account,  and  I 
am  persuaded,  that  if  ]\Jr.  Addrrly's  love  tor  you  \vould  so 
i'ar  overcome  his  dislike  to  them,  you  could  not  be  dis 
pleased.'' 

"  Von  a.re  much  mistaken  in  \otir  oj>inioM  of  me,"  said 
.Maria,  "if  you  believe  so.  A  strict  adherence  to  prin 
ciples  and  dulv.  i  >hall  e\er  admire  :  and  1  shall  the  more 
admire  it.  that  it  i<  accomplished  in  opposition  to  self- 
inlere<t  and  personal  advantage;  for  the  more  diflicult  the 
perform vni  e  cf  virtuous  actions  is.  the  greater  must  he  their 
merit,  and  the  higher  should  he  the  approbation  afforded 
them." 

"Then  you  do  not  ihink  tha'  Dr.  Killbreath  has  done 
riu'ht  ?"  observed  ?Sanev. 

'•  1  do  not  undertake  to  jud<re  the  doctor."  returned  Alaria. 
"Duties  are,  perhaps,  like  almost  every  thinir  else,  in  tin 
strictness  (if  ihoir  obligation,  capable  of  being-  modified  hv 
circumstances.  \\  hot  m:iv  be  imperiously  incumbent  upon 
one  man  to  perform,  may  be  less  so,  or  oven  not  at  all  so. 
upon  another:  and  'he  same  man  may.  in  different  circum 
stances,  feel  himself  bound  to  act  differently  in  resjs-.'cl  to  a 
genera!  duly,  i!'  he  wants  to  act  rig-ht.  !)r.  Killbreaih,  iu 
mnkiiisf  ]ii-;ice  v.-ith  tl;c  I'Yench,  even  whili;  the\  are  ma.kiv.'j 
war  with  his  count! 'vmen.  may  have  no  d-.'siiju  to  injin-e  !:i 
latter  :  on  'he  eonlrarv,  \\<-  mav  tlvrehv  ha\(>  i!  in  his  power 
to  serve  some  of  them.  But  Chnr!e.s  Adder!'/  has  hi^h.1" 
vesjiunsibiliiies  i  K  i-n  already  employed  as 

a  leader,  and   his   coumr-  men    mi'.-t  exj.'H't  inore  Iro,: 
than    from    m;:iiv   others.      [};•!,    IXancv,   to    cut    short    tiie 
discussion,  I   am   convinced   that,  in   the   present   times,   no 
temptation   will   induce    Charles,   even   in   anneara.nc'  , 
I  believe  that  it   is   onb~   in   appejirance   ;!;at  i)r.  Kiilbrcrth 
has  done  so,  to  court  favor  with  the  French." 

"1  know."  said  Xancv.  "that  the  doctor  dont  like  them 
in  his  heart;  for  when  lie  heard  of  them  sending  the  "\\ian- 
dots  on  their  late  Blue  Kidoe  excursi(>n,  "it  will  be  a  mur 
derous  affair,"  said  he — "I  wi*h  to  Cod  the  Virginians  may 
give  them  a  thorou-jh  defeat  !" 

"It,  is  indeed  *hoci;in^  to  think  of  these  doings."  returnee 
.Maria:  "what  cruel  hearts  those  men  mi:-M  have,  that  can 


mi:    WILDERNESS.  173 

rtlfaoe  in  them!  1  fear  thev  will  not  give,  over  nntU"tHfc 
Knirlish  are  excited  to  retaliation;  and  then,  alas  !  'wha't1  k 

'rrible  state  of  things  may  we  not  expect  to  witness 'iii't'his 
country  !  Hut  1  hope  Providence  will  avert  the  calamity'. 
My  heart  sickens  to  think  of  it.  How  different  frtim  'thai 
-ece.re  and  peaceful  slate  of  society,  which  the  delightful 
author  !.  have  in  nr-~  hand  describes!  Let  us  sit  dowW, 
Nancy,  and  I  shall  read  for  YOU  the  heart-cheering1  picture 
of  love,  peace,  and  virtue,  which  the  beautiful  tale'tif 'PaTe- 
mon  and  Lavinia  exhibits  ;  it  will  drive  away!the  disagree 
able  reiiections  which  tin  eontemplati'o'n  of  those' sanguinary 
horrors,  of  which  we  have  been  talking,  have  excited." 

They  sat  down  beneath  a  tree  'which 'grewoiV  a  sllelvi'n'g 
portion  of  the  bank,  and  ?\a.ncv  lis.ened  \vith  great  e'arne'st- 
uess,  while  .Maria  read  with  an  audibld  and' sweet  voice, 'and 
with  a  tenderness  and  pathos  of  manner  which  showed  that 
her  whole  soul  was  enrapt  with  the  deliirhtiul" strains  "m 
wliich  the  poet  of  the  Season-;  has  told  iiis  sweeiest '  tale. 
Sir-  had  just  pronounced  the  following  exqui^itc'lines— -  '' 


When  Nancy,  happening  to  direct  her  attention  a-  little  to 
one  side,  perceived  a  whit.-1  man  leaning  agamsl  a  tree  -care'e 
two  yards  distant.  She  immediately  started  to  her  feet  m 
surprise,  cry  ing  OIK — 

"Oh,  Maria!    her:'  is  a  white  stranger  !" 

Maria  arose,  considerabl'}  .slar'led,  and  the  s,trangef 
a'pproa'chod,  \vitii  mildiiijss,  benevolence,  and  admiration 
sirono-lv  expreaseil  in  his  countehance. 

I  ) 

"•  Ladies!"  sail!  he.  ••  [  must  ask  pardon  for  my  4elay,in 
addressing  you.  Hut  how  could  j  interrupt  the  noble  exier- 
rise,  the  relined  eiijoyniciH  in  which  1  found  \  on  cnsrum'd  ' 
And  in  such  a  place  too — so  unexpectedly  !  1  liave  ira 
versed  the  wilderness  nearly  (wo  hundred  miles  .without 
seeing  a  whit  •  u'oman  :  and  here  to  discover  such  as  yooJ, 
and  so  em[)lo,ed  !  Ladies,  forgive  me,  ii'  1  say  my  delight 
i  s  equal  l*)  mv  as  louishi 

"Sir!"   rep! 

>o    It  w    ii'entl -ai!'1!!    Ii:,  •    \  ou.  that,  if  we    have   on    our    pan 
Hi 


•r"    ••oi-.'lvrt,!    M;ni';.  "we  meet  in  :|ii>  wilderness, witii 


I  7  1  mi;    \\  II,L>I:KM-;SS. 

manifested  any  symptoms  of  childish  surprise  at  sceni'j 
you,  we  presume  that  you  have  discernment  and  candor 
enough  to  ascribe  it  to  its  irue  cause — our  peculiarly  se- 
chuled  condition;  for  these  woods,  that  river,  raid  the  sky 
above  us,  are  the  utmost  extent,  and  variety  of  external  na  - 
ture  that  we  have  seen  since  our  birth.  But  our  father  lives 
near  at  hand;  he  always  makes  the  sojourner  in  the  fores! 
welcome.  If  you  have  no  objection,  we  will  lead  you  t» 
his  house." 

"  Is  your  father's  name  Frazier  '"  asked  the  stranger. 

"It  is,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  was  informed  that  his  residence  is  about  this  place, 
and  was  just  in  search  of  it,  when  I  perceived  you,"  lie 
answered. 

An  idea  now  crossed  Maria's  thoughts,  which  made  her 
change  color,  and  embarrassed  her  manner  more  than  even 
the  sudden  appearance  of  the  stranger. 

"He  may  be  from  Philadelphia — he  may  have  news  for 
me  (thought  she);  but  I  dare  not  nsk  him;" — and  she  un 
consciously  heaved  a  sigh,  which  was  not  unobserved  hv 
the  penetrating  stranger,  whose  eye,  indeed,  since  lie  (irsl 
saw  her,  had,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  been  kept  steadily 
fixed  upon  her.  lie  would  lain  at  this  moment  have  in 
quired  into  the  cause  of  her  slight  agitation,  but  his  delicacy 
and  an  agitation  which  he  himself  felt,  keener,  perhaps, 
than  even  Maria,  prevented  him,  and  they  went  towards  the 
house  in  silence.  A  few  minutes  brought  them  to  the  lane, 
where  they  met  Gilbert;  and  Maria  becoming  soon  satisfied 
from  their  conversation,  that  the  stranger  was  not.  from  Phil 
adelphia,  the  fluttering  of  her  bosom  gradually  subsided. 

"That,  sir.  is  my  father,"  said  she,  as  Gilbert  approach 
ed,  lie  soon  saluted  the  stranger  with  a  friendly  welcome, 
who  cordially  shook  his  hand,  saying, 

"I  haA'c  heard  of  you,  Mr.  Frazier,  and  was  directed  to 
take  your  house  on  my  way  to  Fort  Le  liieuf,  where  f  am 
proceeding  on  public  business,  by  the  order  of  the  Governor 
of  "V  irginia." 

The  high  respect  with  which  the  stranger's  appearance 
had  impressed  Gilbert,  was,  of  course,  nothing  diminished 
by  this  intelligence. 


TDK     \\TI.DKR\ESS.  175 

"  A  \ ,  ay  !  Indian  business,  \\:\  doot,"  said  he;  "1  wonner 
i!c  (Jovernor  did  n;i  lanir  ere  this,  scud  to  inquire  after  thir 
r.iiiiis;  I'm-  there  hac  been  unco'  fearfu'  an'  troublesome 
•!  •ings  hiielv.  1  hope  mm,  howsomever,  that  yc'll  get  it  a' 
o'Mled.  Hut  conic  in,  come  in — I  wish  I  could  accommo 
date  ye  bettor;  but  amang  thir  woods,  ye  ken,  it's  no  like 
!'  iviu'  in  a  Christian  country." 

"  Your  kindness  will  far  more  than  compensate  for  any 
di'liciencv  of  accommodation.  (Jeorge  Washington  —  for 
such,  .Mr.  Fra/ier,  is  my  mime — will  never  be  fastidious  in 
iliis  respect.  If  he  has  no!  vet  learned,  he  hopes  he  will 
h'arn.  how  to  bear  hardships  when  the  public  service  re- 
>  ires  them.  In  the  meantime,  to  men  who  have,  for  sev 
eral  nights  past,  lodged  in  the  open  woods,  the  shelter  of 
\  our  roof  will  be  a  luxury  ;  for  i  am  not,  you  will  suppose, 
Indorsing  this  wilderness  without  assistants  and  o-uides." 

••  And  whar  are  yere  men."'  inquired  Gilbert;  "  I'll  send 
for  them,  an'  try,  wi'  he;irt  an'  gudo  wull,  to  mak'  ye  a' 
welcome." 

"  I  left  them  about  a  mile  up  the  river,  where  they  halted 
t  ri 'fresh  themselves,  while,  with  my  rille  in  my  hand,  I 
l,''pt  on  our  course  before  it.'" 

••  Your  rille!"  said  (Albert,  seeing  none  in  Washington's 
possession;  "an'  whar  is  it?" 

"  It  is  ai  the  foot  of  a  walnut  tree,  not  far  from  the  place 
v  here  I  met  your  daughters;  for  on  perceiving  them,  1 
d  a  red  to  alarm  them  l>v  aj)pearing  armed  in  their  presence, 


••I'll  send  my  sin  Archy  to  bring  your  men  doon  the 
river,"  said  (Jilberl.  "lfe'11  likely  fin'  the  rille  on  his 
way.  Hut  come  yoursel'  into  the  boose,  Mr.  Washington, 
:•'['  the  women  will  hae  something  comfortable  for  you, 
belyve." 

••  I  think  I  had  myself  better  go  back  for  the  rille,"  said 
'.Vashington  ;  ••  I  can  from  thence  call  my  men  together.  It 
v.  ill  save  your  son  unnecessary  trouble." 

ll«-  accordingly  retraced  bis  steps  as  far  back  as  the 
walnut  tree,  where  he  sounded  a  horn,  as  a  signal  for  his 
f.mipany  to  come  on,  which  was  immediately  answered 
MOID  no  great  distance.  Archv,  who,  bv  his  father's  order. 


176  THE    WILD1  RNESS. 

followed  after  him,  overtook  liim  at  this  crisis,  and  was  in 
formed  that  lie  need  proceed  no  further,  for  his  companions 
\vould  be  present  in  a  f(  \v  uiinutes. 

"I'll  push  on,  if  ye  please,  sir,''  said  Arohy;  "the  sight 
of  a.  white  man  in  tliir  woods,  since  the  Indians  have 
frightened  away  the  traders,  is  a  pleasure  we;  e;,M,,,  yet 
everv  dav." 

So  saying,  lie  hastened  onwards,  and  Washington  re 
turned  to  the  house,  desirous  a^ain  to  behold  the  must 
beautiful  and  interesting  female  lie  had  ever  seen. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

lie  came  lu  the  cot  oi'the  wild  mounttiinnri , 

And  gladly  its  nimatps  received  liim  : 
He  carne  with  a  tale  which  he  told  without  tear, 

And  f'rcelv  and  well  they  believed  him  : 
He  came  with  a  heart  that  was  blithesome  and  <j.'\  . 

And  he  v.  ot  not  ol'love  that  could  hind  him, 
But  when  from  that  cottage  ho  went  far  away, 

He  left  his  ;:ny  heart  there  behind  him. 

BASKET  OF  Sen  APS. 

MAKIA,  who  now  knew  the  quality  and  errand  of  the- 
•new  visitor,  received  him,  on  his  enterinir  the  house,  with 
none  of  that  embarrassment  which  she  had  manifested  be 
fore  meeting  with  her  father.  Her  manner  was  kind  and 
respectful,  hut  easy,  graceful,  and  dignified.  Her  guest, 
however,  was  not  so  much  at  ease.  He  saw  hefore  him 
the  most  perfect  model  of  female  excellence,  (and  no  man 
ever  more  ardently  admired  such  excellence.)  oi  which  he 
had  ever  formed  any  conception  ;  and  he  saw  this  where. 
of  all  places  in  the  Avorld.  he  least  expected  to  see  it,  and 


nn:    WII.UKRXESS.  177 

under  circumstances  the  most  calculated  of  any  that  could 
be  imagined,  to  make  an  impression  on  his  heart.  How 
c.iuld  he.  then,  at  this  moment,  i'eel  tamely  cool  and  col- 
lected  in  her  presence1!  Xo — Washington's  heart  was 
Made  of  warmer  materials,  and  his  soul  composed  of  more 
amiable  qualities,  than  to  behold,  unmoved,  so  rare  a  com 
bination  of  all  those  charms  that  form  the  witchery  of 
\\  oman. 

When  he  was  seated  with  Maria  and  Nancy  in  (Jiibert's 
little  parlor,  and  some  li<rht  refreshment  placed  before  him, 
until  a  more  substantial  meal  could  be  prepared,  Maria  ob 
serving  that  he  scarcely  tasied  anything — 

"  Mr.  Washington,"  said  she.  "[  should  have  expected 
;iiat  traversing  the  woods  would  have  quickened  the  appe 
tite  more  than  it.  seem.-;  to  have  done  with  you.  I  wish 
\ ou  would  partake  of  our  fare.  It  is  indeed  rustic,  but  you 
will  make  allowance  for  it,  beini>-  the  produce  of  the  Wil 
derness." 

"j  shall  eat.  since  it  will  gratify  you,"  he  replied,  "al 
though  I  confess  1  have  no  appetite  just  now.  ^  et  think 
not,  Mis.-;  Frazier,  that  it  is  because  these;  cakes  and  that 
netlieoiin  are  disagreeable  to  my  taste,  that  I  use  them 
jparinjflv.  Xo — the  choicest  viands  of  city  luxury  could 
not  be  more  g-rateful  to  me.  Ah  !  i  feel,  believe  me  1  do, 
thai  the  very  hcari  of  the  Wilderness  can  produce  attrac 
tions  equal,  na v,  let  me  say  superior,  to  any  1  have  yet.  met 
with  in  society." 

"Sir."  said  Maria,  "there  must  be  a  refinement  in  soci 
ety,  arising  from  a  thousand  opportunities  and  advantages 
enabling  the  people  to  cuhivate  it.  that  we  do  not  possess 
here:  nor  can  it  hi-  expected  that  we  should.  What  means, 
what  instructions,  what  examples,  either  to  infuse  and  cul 
ture  taste,  or  afford  the  means  of  its  gratification,  can  we 
eii|oy  amonir  nations  of  savages,  whose  only  object  is  to 
proul  the  \\  ilderness,  in  search  of  prev,  or,  alas!  too  fre 
quently,  in  search  of  revenge." 

"And  yd,"  said  Washington,  "in  this  very  Wilderness, 
it  appears — forgive  me  for  saving  it,  Miss  Frazier — but  it 
is  truth,  that  yon  ha\e  been  lau^'lit  both  to  relish  and  dis- 
••riminate  with  a  liner  lasie.  -Mid  -;ot!iider  judgment,  the 


178  THE     V.  •JLDEttNFSS.. 

refinements  of  life,  than  the  majority  of  ovrn  those  Avomon 
in  society  who  have  had  llic  advantages  of  thi'  best  tuition. 
I  have  met  with  none  o!  them  who  could  have,  read  with 
more  apparent  feeling  and  enjoyment,  than  you  did  lo-dav, 
the  delightful  tale  o!'  the  lovely,  the  modest  Lavinia,  who, 
like  yourself,  Avas  the  child  of  seclusion  ;  and  who,  like 
yourself,  possessed  as  much,  perhaps  more,  real  taste  and 
refinement,  than  if  she  hat!  1-v-en  hrov<rht  up  in  courts.  1 
must  confess,  Miss  Fra/.icr.  ihat  from  my  first  perusal  cf 
Lavinia's  tale,  which  was  in  my  boyhood,  I  have  hecn  moie 
enamored  of  the  idea  my  fanrv  formed  of  her  attractions  and 
virtues,  than  I  ever  was  with  those  of  any  other  woman  . 
and  until — " 

Tic  was  here  interrupted  hy  the  nnival  of  his  party. Avhom 
(iilhert,  with  great  animation  and  satisfaction,  introduced 
into  the  apartment. 

"  I  am  glad,''  said  Gilbert,  v\  hen  he  had  got  them  all 
seated,  "  to  see  sae  mony  Christians  in  my  hoosc.  an  a' 
speakin'  sae  as  I  can  understand.  Irs  like  jjetting  hock  to 
the  world  again." 

"And  I,"  said  Mr.  Vanbraam,  who  was  to  he  Washing 
ton's  interpreter  with  the  French,  "  I  am  heartily  glad,  after 
wandering  ten  or  twelve  days  as  we  have  done,  without 
seeing  a  house  at  all,  ouee  more  to  gel  the  Avails  of  one 
round  my  sides.  So,  Mr.  Frazicr.  we  have  concelled  obli 
gations  in  this  respect,  I  think." 

"I  Avish  \ve  could  only  cancel  the  debt  of  mischief  we 
owe  the  French,  and,  their  ied  allies  as  easily,"  said  one 
Gist,  who  had  acted  as  guide  to  the  party  through  the  Wil 
derness.  Mr.  Frazier,  I  have  often  heard  the  traders  talk  of 
your  living  down  here,  and  many  a  time  1  wondered  at  your 
hardihood,  and  cannot  fiiess  how  you  have  escaped  so  lone, 
unless  it  he  hy  the  aid  of  the  MiiifiO  prophet,  or  conjurer, 
that  they  talk  about,  a?  protecting  you.  It's  nation  curious, 
Mr.  Frazier." 

"  It  is  indeed  remarkable,"  observed  Washington,  "that 
amidst  all  their  depredations  and  barbarities  of  hue.  the  In 
dians  should  have  permitted  a  family  so  very  much  in  their 
power,  and  belonging  to  the  nation  they  so  much  hate,  to 
remain  so  long  unmolested.  You  m;:c!  assuredly,  Mr.  Fra- 


THE   wn,Pi:u\r,ss.  i ',': 

7.. or,  have  sonic  uncoiymon  means   of  conciliating  them  ?" 

'' I    ear.na   r-;iv."    ici'lkd    (-ilbert.   "that   I    li:ie  ever  used 

i:  ncl  '.     : .       •  in,  !  r.t    I    aye  ';•!;  care  no  to  of- 

I    hae    rev  r    yet    cheat!  cl    :uiy  o' 

t!;eii],  IM  the  traders  hae  often  done." 

'•I   believe,"   said  NYa.diinjiton,  "  that  the  injudicious   and 
c:  -vary   haughtiness,  and,   perhaps,  in    i:i;.ny  instance?, 
lent  conduct  of  our  pie.  have  been  tho  means 

i  .'  provi  king  these  sons  of  ihe  forest  to  resentment  and  cru 
elties  against  us.  that  they  wevdd  not  otherwise  jiave  dis 
played.  It  \vriiii.i  !H;  wise  and  foruir.r.'e,  ?\lr.  V'r^/ii'r,  i!' all 
our  bark-settlers  and  trai'uT?  would  ::et  :--o  inofFensivel] 

'ht  P.I   as  vou  have  done.      The    inu-i<ii;e:v   ol    j'^'cncii 
••.inl  ambition  would  not  then  be  so  fatally  sncces;--- 
\   now  are.  in  slimmr  them  in)  Jigainst  i:  ." 
rely,"   obs-Tved    (list,  "von  can't  s'po?c   it   a  sin  of 
h    licinonFiiess   to   take   from  the   enemies  of  the    Lord 
,vhat(  v<  ;•  we  can  ifct.  and  in  ?nv  hc>\v  we  cat]  ^el  i'.     'I  : 

t1^-  are  heathens,  the  Lord's  enemies.      1  cxped,  and    i 
vou  rcmemher  the  story  of  tl        '          n  of  Israel  des- 
|ioilin<r  the  Egyptians  hy  borrn\vin<r,  witin-ut  returning,  ae- 
I'ording  to  the  command  of  the  Lor;;." 

••  i'lut  we  have  no  ce.minand  of  the  kind,"   said   V.'ashini)-- 
"  to   trral  thf1  fndia.ns  so;   MK!.  Mr.  (list.  aMion^h   yoii 

.  :      ',  on  wore 

•!  in  ex;u'tly  tl  •      •  he  J:-ra-l- 

tcs,  you  <!i'!  ; 

iioilinf;  the  'c'li'vptian?'.  wlio,  yi  u  llect,  had  hi  en  lonij 

ihiir  tyrannical  task-masters." 

"  '^  e're  vera  rii'lit,  sir,"  observed  (-iilheri — l>tlie  Testa- 
n:i-nt  says,  that  the  labon  r  is  \vi  rihy  o'  h'--  hire,  an'  as  [he 
ptians  would  na  wi"  their  ain  will  .'rie  the  Isiaeli'es 
their  lawi'u'  wa^er;,  which  conld  na  bt.-  ta'en  by  force,  they 
co'.iid  na  do  bt  ti<  r  t|i:in  t:d;  i'  by  craft— -an"  since  the  pro|ih(  t 
o'  the  l.ovd  bai'ii!  i!.  it  could  na  be  a  sin,  ye  ken." 

"  \\  e  lian't  any  express  conimaiid,"   said    (iist.   "to   des- 
poil  the-;  .  :  ••;•••  ve.      lint  aie  they  not  heathens,  and 

as  wicked  and  ciir:!'d  before  the  Lord.  1  guess,  as  the  K^yp- 
tians.  'Tarnation  to  them!  han't  ihey  jilundered,  and  rob 
bed,  and  massacred  us,  if  tbev  did  not  make  us  slaves  '" 


1  M)  rnr    \v 

"Tliis  plundering  and  massacreing,*'  sold  Washington, 
"  have,  indeed,  unhappily  taken  place;  but  I  fear  that  they 
have  been,  sometimes,  wantonly  provoked  by  ihe  miscon 
duct  of  our  own  people.  The  safely  and  tranquillity  of  Mr. 
Fra/ier  here,  in  the  midst  of  the  Indians,  is  proof  of  it." 

"  lie  has  had  the  old  conjuror,  Tonnaleuka,  at  his  back.  1 
guess,"  said  Gist.  "Unless  the  devil  had  helped  him.  he 
couldn't,  I  expect,  have  so  long  escaped  his  imps,  and  their 
tomahawks.  They  say  he's  a  nation'd  curious  old  Jish,  thai 
Indian  prophet.  I  guess  I  shouldn't  dislike  much,  to  see 
whether  he  has  a  clove!)  foot,  like  his  daddv." 

"  You  may  examine  inslantlv,  thou  son  of  levity,"  said  a 
solemn  and  awful  voice,  which  made  the  blood  almost  free/e 
in  the  heart  of  the  startled  and  terrified  (list.  At  the  same 
time,  the  majestic  and  hallowed  lookintr  figure  of  Tonna 
leuka  stood  before  him.  with  one  leg  advanced,  as  if  to  i.;- 
vite  inspection. 

"Look  here,''  continued  the  prophet,  "is  {here  any  mark 
of  an  evil  spirit,  here  .'  Kxamine  me.  all.  Is  there  any  such 
mark  about  me?  Where  comest  thou  from,  thou  mocker  of 
sacred  things — thou  pervertcr  of  sacred  oracles  !  Hear  me, 
I  will  tell  you,  for  I  have  been  inyourland.  Is  it  not  called 
the  land  of  Puritanism  '.'  l.pon  the  river  Connecticut,  do  ye 
not  call  yourselves  the  servants  of  God — the  enlightened 
children  of  the  I'lasl  ? 

"  Hearken  to  me — I  will  toll  you  what  you  are.  You  are 
the  children  of  .Mammon,  the  followers  of  lucre,  and  the 
victims  of  witchcraft.  It  is  you  that  have  the  cloven  foot. 
When  upon  the  shores  of  the  Concord,  and  the  Merrimack, 
!  saw  you  sacrifice  your  sons  and  your  daughters  as  victhns 
to  the  spirit  of  evil,  to  the  anirol  of  darkness,  as  your  pries! 
called  him,  how  did  my  soul  rejoice  in  the  pure  religion  of 
my  native  tribes!  How  did  1  congratulate  myself,  that  1 
was  none  of  you  !  \Ve  worship,  said  I,  one  Great.  Spirit, 
who  made  all  men,  and  desires  the  sacrifice  of  none.  But 
those  irrational  people  of  the  east,  worship  Lucifer,  the  doily 
of  gold,  and  sacrifice  to  his  kindred  god,  the  spirit  of  daik- 
iiess,  whom  they  call  the  author  of  evil.  How  preposterous  ! 

•'  Hut  hear  me,  sou  of  deceit  !  thou  who  wouldst  despoil 
:  people  more  upright  and  pure  than  ihine  own.  and  ihmk  it 


T1IK     WILDHRNESS. 


Hear  me — i    can" —      At  this,   CJist,   who  ex- 
;-;ed  some  sudden   denunciation,  and   preternatural   inilie- 


Hear  me— 1 

ml    for   the  sake  of 


••  \nd    brother,"  said   he,  turning  to    Washington,   '•  thou 
hK'.-tod   of  heaven  !      I  will   say  to  thee  thou   mavest  go  on 
thy  way  wiib.out  fear.      Th.:u  hast  received  a  spirit  of  wis- 
com,  .md  of  virtue  to  keep  thee  right,  and  no  one  will  barm 
i   ee  ;  bu1  ihoi    wilt,  when  thou  perforrnest  thy  errand,  return 
(<    thy  home   and  thy  people,  in  .-afeiy;   and   from  ihee  they 
s-iiall  b:;;un    wha'  to    do;   and  if  they  hearken 
they  will  prosper  ai:d  become  a  Treat  people. 
'•  Brother,  thou  hast  heard  my  word.-." 
To  this  Washington  answered  : — 

'•  Father — I  am  <Jad  1  have  met  will;   \ou.      I  have-  heard 

o|   yeuv   virtues,   and   of   your   influence   over   the   Indians. 

\  on  know  that  the   object  c.t   my  mission  at   pr<  ^ent,  to  the 

-,-.  is   to  effect  a   reconciliation  with   those  of  your 

itioii,--.  who  are    hostile  to  us,  and    to   o:;t  an  end  to  the   in- 

•igu(;s  of  yon,  brethren,  in  exciting  them  against  us. 

-%  Father — I  thank  yon    for  your  nood  will,  and  the  favor- 
hie  sentiments  yon  have  expressed  towards  me,  and  1  wish 
'  ir   your   aid    in  accomplishing   the   pacific   object  i    have    in 
lew  ;   an  object  which  I  know  YOU  must  approve. 

"Father — My  instructions  a,e  to  vi.-it  the    Frem-h,  and  to 
"inonstrate  with  them  ;    for  we  look  upon  them  as  the  chief 
ource  o!'  our  hile  calamities,  and  blame  them  more  than  we 
o  your  people.      li  we  at  all  lift  the  hatchet,  it  will  be  moie 
.  .  lan  to  punish  the  Indians  whom  they  have 
belief  thai  '.\  e  are  their  enemies. 
:•  tempi  r  ol    our  r<  d  brolh.ers,  uidess  when 
hey  are  deceived  or  provoked,  I  do  not  believe  to  be  so  cruel 
•ml  malignant  as  [  have  heard  reported.      \  on  know  that  they 
have,  durinir  the   last  summer,  done  us   are, it  injury,  by  iles- 


iroymir  our  people  and  carrying  oll'our  properly.  Hence  it 
vvus  natural  we  should  think  them  blood-thirsty  and  inhuman. 
But  they  have  permitted  our  Friend  Fra/ier  to  live  here  in 
the  midst  of  them  in  peace,  for  many  years,  although  ho  is 
ot  our  nation.  I  presume,  therefore,  that,  they  are  not  inve- 
U'nitely  hostile  to  us.  and  that,  if  they  were  only  well  in 
formed  as  to  our  intentions  to \vards  them,  they  would  bo 
our  friends,  and  withdraw  their  coniidencc  from  those  who 
deceive  them, 

'•  Father  !  yon  have  heard  me,  and  you  may  believe  thai 
we  do  not  wish  to  be  at  war  with  your  people.'' 

"  Brother,"  replied  Tonnalouka,  "  you  are  a  wise  man,  and 
know  the  true  interests  of  your  country.  I  have  hoard  you 
— 1  have  listened  to  you  with  great  delight,  as  1  would  to  Un 
pleasant  sound  of  the  summer's  breo/o,  that  refreshes  the 
iorost  when  it  whistles  amidst  the  leaves  of  the  ha/el  and  the 
elder  bushes — for  it  is  lefieshini:  to  hear  the  words  of  peace 
irom  a  white  man. 

"  Brother — our  white  brother,  Frazicr,  has  lived  here  long ; 
and  because  lie  was  peaceable  we  have  not  disturbed  him. 
The  chiefs  of  thirteen  nations  have,  at  different  times, smoked 
the  calumet  with  him,  and  he  has  thirteen  strings  of  wampum 
in  his  possession — the  symbols  of  amity,  and  his  securit\ 
irom  molestation.  All  your  white  men  miirht  sit  in  tran- 
.juilily  and  safety,  with  as  little  fear  and  concern  for  our  ani- 
jnosity,  as  our  friend,  if  they  would  only  conduct  themselves 
as  he  has  done  : — for — hear  me,  brother,  Indians  can  be  kind 
friends,  as  assuredly  as  you  have  found  them  to  be  terrible 
enemies. 

"  Brother — hear  me — all  our  tribes  have  not  declared  atram-i 
your  nation.  Nay — some  of  them  wish  you  better  than  they 
do  the  French.  The  Shannoahs,  the  Delawares,  and  the 
Mingoes,  who  inhabit  these  parts,  believe  the  French  to  be 
Jess  upright  than  YOU,  and  they  have  blamed  the  Ottowas, 
and  the  Chippeways,  and  the  Canghnewagoes,  and  the  Wy- 
andots,  and  the  other  nations  who  have  lent  themselves  to 
your  white  enemies  ;  [or  they  say, — "  Who  invaded  our  ter 
ritories,  and  built  forts  among  us  first?  Was  it  not  the 
French?  The  English  are  more  numerous  and  powerful, 
and  ve!  they  have  been  more  moderate,  and  have  kept  out 


nl  our  hunting  ground,  or  else  come  into  it  with  our  permis 
sion.      We  should,  tlicrofore,  wish  the  Fnglish  better  than  the 
French." 
'•  Thus,  brother,  are  the   Shannoahs,  the   Delawares,  and 

the  Mingocs  your  friends.  You  are  now  among  them,  and 
ii'  ed  fear  nothing  ;  and  as  to  the  hostile  tribes  they  have,  for 
this  season,  withdrawn  to  their  huts  and  their  wigwams,  and 
^  ill  annoy  you  no  more  till  the  spring;  and  if  you  can  per 
suade  the  French  to  1>o  quiet,  nil  will  be  well  ;  but,  brother, 
the  French  are  not  inclined  to  be  so.  You  have  heard  my 
opinions.  Receive  this  wampum  in  testimony  of  my  friend 
ship.  The  chief  of  my  tribe,  I  doubt  not,  will  also  give 
you  one. 

'•  Hi-other — as  you  are  peaceable,  may  you  be  prosperous!" 
f-'o  saying,  he  turned  round,  and  left  the  apartment. 

The  impression  made  on  our  travellers,  by  this  extraordi 
nary  Indian,  was  a  mixture  of  astonishment  and  reverence 
\\  ashington  had  before  heard  of  him,  as  an  eccentric  man. 
with  some  pretensions  to  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  and  with. 
ji;st  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  mankind,  to 
(liable  him  to  impose  himself  upon  his  barbarous  brethren  as 
an  inspired  person;  but  he  had  no  idea  of  that  dignity,  that 
Vi  i.-dom.  that  elevation  of  manner,  and  commanding  poteno\ 
of  language,  which  scarcely  ever  failed  to  effect  its  purpose 
M  ith  his  auditors  ;  and,  which,  consequently,  gave  him  an 
unbounded  influence  over  many  nations  of  his  red  brethren. 

Washington  was  extremely  desirous  to  make  inquiry  of 
some  of  Frazicr's  family,  concerning  what  they  kne\v  ol  ihc 
prophet's  previous  life,  and  the  means  by  which  he  had  ac 
quired  that  knowledge  of  the  world  which  he  evidently 
possessed,  in  a  degree  far  superior  to  an\  thing  he  had  ever 
i  xpectcd  to  find  in  an  Indian.  The  best  qualified  person  to 
"ivr  him  such  information,  lie  believed,  was  Maria;  at  all 
<  vents,  he  felt  she  would  be  the  most  agreeable  ;  and  was  in 
ternally  pleased  witli  the  idea,  that  the  making  such  an  in 
ijiiirv  would  a  (lord  him  an  excellent  plea  for  drawing  her  into 
a  conversation,  perhaps,  somewhat  of  a  confidential  kind  : 
and  which  she  could  have  no  proper  objection  to  indulge 
him  in  extending  to  a  considerable  length.  She  had  left  the 
loom  immediately  on  the  entrance  of  hi.-  companions — he 


could  not,  therefore,  instantaneously  gratify  his  wishes  ;  but 
he  revived  to  seize  the  first  opportunity  that  oli'ered  during 
the  evening  for  that  purpose  ;  and  in  the  meantime,  to  refrain 
(Vom  asking  that  information  from  her  father  or  any  other  of 
the  family  which  would  be,  beyond  measure',  more  sweet  ant' 
precious  when  obtained  from  her  lips.  Th  of  a!i 

poems  has  informed  the  world,  that  our  good  mother  Fve, 
was  actuated  by  similar  feelings  toward-  the  man  she  loved, 
when  she  withdrew,  while  the  angel  communicated  to  him 
the  interesting  story  of  the  v.  orld's  creation,  in  order  that  she 
might  afterwards  enjoy  the  greater  (I  light  of  hearing  him 
repeat  it.  Tims  it  appears  that  the  eii'  els  of  love  upon  the 
mind  did  not  difi'  r  greatly  sixty  centuries  ago  in  Paradise, 
from  what  they  did  about  sixty  years  ago  in  the  Wilderness. 

As  to  the  observations  of  the  rest  of  the  company  con 
cerning  Tonnaleuka,  when  he  had  withdrawn,  thev  were 
expressed  pretty  much  us  folio  v.  s  : 

"Bv  heavens!''  said  Van'-raam,  '•  that  is  a  strange  kind  u! 
a  man  !      If  it    were   not  against   aii    the   rule.-   of  sin 
Bayle's  philosophy,  I  protest  I  should  almost  believe  him  to 
be    really   a   prophet,      lie   must  at  least   be    a  soothsave: 
Hah,  (u-t  !   he  gave  your  yanlu-eism,  \vi;h  all  its   shifts  and 
turnings,  a  complete  overs:,-!.      I  never  hit   a  pigeon's  crown 
more  fairly  \vi;ii   a  rilie  :•>!-.  ot,  than  he   did   your  witehcral." 

•'Tarnation  to  your  rille,  and  him  too  '.''  cried  (iist,  rath,  r 
hvstericailv.  and  f'orcin;;  into  his  manner  an  appearance  of 
ea.se  and  unconcern,  which  he  really  did  not  feel.  "  Win! 
sigiiifi.es  his  gibberish  about  the  Merrimack  and  the  Concord 

I  guess   he  wanted  to    frighten   me — but,  faith,   Klij'  ('••-: 
ha'nt  got   so  squirrel  a  heart  as  to  flinch  at  a  pop-gun.      }j'M 
Us  nation   curious,  after   all,  I   expect.      He"-  an    odd  fish  - 
and  I   n.n't   sure   whether  he    mayn't    he   Satin  or   not.      ITi  . 
bear-skin  moccasins  may  have  hidden  his  cleft  fool.'' 

"Whether  his  foot  bo  cloven  or  not,"'  replied  Vanbr<<am, 
i%  his  sudden  appearance.  I  believe,  clove  tha  contents  o'f 
your  rrtfnitdrt.  as  (he  philosophers  call  it,  down  to  't!ie  ver\ 
ceVd  fi'rcir;/  of  the  lenrned  \'oi.-~r;us:  and  I  doubt  the  s.uKii'e 
itself  has  been  shattered,  for  it  is  plain  (hat  your  brain  h.  . 
not  ye!  resumed  its  proper  position  in  it." 

'•Curse    vour   philo^onhv.  nnd  A'our   i/aim  !"  exclaiined 


ruii   wiLDLK.NLtes,  1H5 

C»;st.  ••  You  would  lire  a  squib  at  me,  too,  i  o'tiess — but  1 
expect  you  an't  primed  enough,  Mr.  Interpreter  !  Tarnation 
t'>  it!  but  if  my  head  wau't  bothered  with  that  conjurer, and 
\otir  Latin,  1  \voukl  twirl  back  yuurjok.cs  till  your  ears 
\\  ould  ring  again,  I  guess,  as  easilv  as  I  could  crack  a  hazel- 
nut.'' 

••  Ay  !  and  as  easily  as  you  lost  your  wager  this  morning," 
ivpliod  \  anbraam,  ••  bv*  shooting  the  squirrel  througli  the 
tail  instead  of  t!ie  head,  IVopudor  !  Master  Aim  well  !" 

'•  1'ro  devil !"'  cried  Gist,  considerably  nettled  ;  '•  i  tell  you, 
Monsieur — i  nuess  1  can  aim  as  well  as  you — tarnation  to 
you!  I'll  stake  you  live  guineas,  here  they  are,  true  spades, 
j  stress,  and  as  ijood  metal  as  ever  had  the  kind's  head  on 
t.iem — down  with  as  many  now!  Mr.  Washington,  you'll 
I..>ld  the  slakes.  I'll  shoot  for  them  with  any  man  in  the 
compnny,  except  yourself,  at  a  hundred  yards  distance, 
through  the  si/e  of  a  crown-piece.  Vaubraam,  1  guess  now 
!  defy  you  for  the  yellow-boys." 

••  Defy  me  at  hitting  a  mark  a  hundred  yards  !  Gist,  that 
YOU  sha'nt,"  returned  the  interpreter.  "  If  it  were  a  needle's 
point  instead  of  a  crown-piece,  I'll  take  you  up.  Here  is 
:  ic  coin.  Mr.  Washington  will  say  when  and  where." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Fiazier  entered  to  equip  the  table  for 
dinner,  and  U  ashin^lnn  observed: 

••  At  present,  m  v  friends,  this  good  lady  is  about  furnishing 
sou  \\ith  other  employment,  in  which,  I  hope,  you  will  have 
i.o  objection  to  eiijiao'e.  To-morrow  morning,  if  you  wish 
•  i  try  voiir  skill,  you  may  do  it  with  all  my  heart  ;  but  I 
vvould  recommend  \'ou  tudo  it  from  a  nobler  motive  than  the 
.viimiiig  of  a  \vai:'(;r,  I  im;an  (he  honor  of  victory.  You  will, 
aes'l.'tcjre,  be  pleased,  each  oi  you,  to  take  b.ici-c  your  m one}'; 
aid  let-us  have  to-morrow  a  contest  for  the  character  of  the, 
uest  marksman:  1  shall  myself  try  a  hand  in  the.  sport." 

"  ."NO.  sir,"  saiil  V'anbraam,  u  I  shall  not  enoaixe  to  contend 
.vith  you  ;  (>i-t  i-^  my  antagonist." 

k-  .Nor  I,'1  said  (li>t:  '•  I  'juess  we  would  come  oil' devilish 
osers  in  that  inatier.  i'ut,  sir,  i  han't  no  objection  you 
hould  try  the  \\  inner." 

••  As  you  plea.-:-,"  said  Washington;  '•  but  if  the  day  may 
be  suitable  foi  travelling,  we  must  not  occupy  much  of  it  in 
Miiusement."  17 


*(i  mi:    \\ILDER.\KSS 

"  We  shall  only  take  the  best  of  three  hits,  sir,  and  then 
attend  you,"  said  Vanbraam. 

Mrs.  Frnzier's  good  fare  no\v  smoked  upon  the  table,  and 
the  party  soon  applying  themselves  pretty  vigorous!  v  to  its 
enjoyment,  the  conversation  \vas  discontinued 

During  the  repast,  Paddy  Fra/icr  and  ]>r.  Kil';rca;h  ar 
rived  m-iii  a  hunting  <  xrursion,  and  took  their  seats.  The 
iorinei1.  after  the  meal  \va.s  over,  inforr.cd  Washington  that 
the  governor  ol  Ls  i!u'uf  was  deail,  ;  nd  that  an  officer 
named  St.  Pierre  cotninanded  there  in  his  place;  thai  in  a 
Jew  davs  a  council  of  the  chiefs  ol  some  tribes,  mostiv 
friendly  to  tiie  English,  was  to  he  held  al  a  place  called  the 
l-o  :_;siown,  about  thirty  miles  do\vn  the  river,  and  that  ail 
the  hostile  tribes,  except  the  V,  ianclots  and  Caughnewagocs, 
had  removed  to  a  considerable  distance  westward,  to  spend 
the  u  inter,  with  the  intention,  however,  of  recommencing 
in  the  spring  with  more  than  their  former  force  and  feroc.il) 
their  depredations  upon  the  frontiers. 

"  At  the  present  time,"  said  lie,  "  the  only  danger  your 
company  can  have  to  encounter  will  arise  from  the  \Viandois 
and  Caughnewagoes,  part  of  \vliom  are  yet  encamped  be 
tween  this  and  Le  ]';euf,  ami  their  chids  are  to  attend  the 
council  at  the  Looostown." 

"  But  on  account  of  the  nature  of  mv  mission.  1  have  ,i 
right,  observed  Washington,  to  demand  a  safe  conduct  !••! 
my  followers  from  the  French,  which  1  suppose  those  In 
dians  will  respect.  It  is  true  the  obtaining  lhat  safe-conduct 
may  he  attended  with  difficulty  and  loss  of  time.  It  would 
not  be  safe  for  any  of  my  men  to  ventuie  singly  to  the  for) 
for  that  purpose.  It  will  therefore,  be  better  to  keep  together, 
exeii  prudence,  and  trust  to  Providence  for  the  issue." 

"There  is  a  small  fortification,"  returned  Paddy,:"  lately 
erected  at  Venani!'",  not  much  above  sixty  miles  from  tins 
place,  commanded  by  a  -Monsieur  Joncaire.  Let  me  see.  1 
think  1  could  be  there  to-morrow  night,  for  I  am  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  road  :  and  the  third  day  from  this,]  think. 
barring  accidents,  1  could  meet  you  at  the  Logins  town  with  a 
safe-conduct.  In  the  meantime,  we  car.  start  Dr.  Killbreath 
in  a  canoe  to  king  Shingiss,  about  twelve  mile.-  down  I'M- 
river,  with  information  that  vou  are  here,  lie  will  afford 


\VI1.DKRNESS.  1  M? 

you  ail  the  protection  h'-  can,  I'M'-  IK>  is  the  most  steadily  :ii - 
t;i  -lied  to  ih"  i'/'iLjiish  of  any  i-'iief  1:1  the  country." 

Washington  immediately  perceived  liu;  propriety  of  acced- 

ii  i  loth:!.--1   proposal- :   an;!  i'a'Jdy.  who   required  no   other 

>n  for  the   journey   than    merely    to    ihrow  on    his 

i>  Its.  a;ul   a  small  wallet   of  provisions,  and  to  see  that   his 

was-  in  order,  received  his  instructions  and  was  oil'  in  a 

I-  -,v    minutes.      Dr.  Killhreaih   also   set  out  the    same    even- 

h  ;  in  a  ('anoo  for  kimjf  Shingiss' residence.     The  roads  h,'1- 

.'!  :'  i=  :  !,  i:i    order  to   relievo  the  horses   of  part  of  their   hnr- 

look  a   (jfc:\i    ])oriion    of  t!ie    hajfiraire    with    him, 

v  liich  was  pla.i-e;'  nndfM'  tlie  can.'  of  throo  of  Washington's 

men,  naia.'d    Sie\v;ir;,  (Jnrrin,  and    M'Guire,  wlio  aeeoinpa- 

nied  him  to  t!ie  c   uoe. 

!;  wiis  !io;  till  afti  r  making'  tiie.se  arranue-iK'nts.  that  Wash- 
i!  uton  onj  iyed  \\\c.  opportunity  he  so  much  desired  of  con- 
Viirsinjr  \\-iih  .Maria  on  the  subject  of  Tonnalenka,  or,  if  the 
i  a  !;•!•  will  have  it  so,  on  any  subject  she  mio'lu  think  pro- 
\  :r  to  permit.  At  length,  various  occasions  having  caused 
Apartment  to  be  vacated  bv  all  except  .Mana.  Xancy,  and 
!  iinsclf,  In1  addresst^d  them,  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  with- 

•  it  !  •  \i\\"  some  slight  agitation  at  his   heart,   which,  how- 

ie  soon   overcame. 

'•  l/idie,-,v"  said   li(\  "next  to   the   astonishment   i    fell    at 
linding  you  in  lliis   \\  ildernes,  my  greatest  surprise  has 
n  se    th  ('  if  coiiiains  so  extraordinary  a  man  as  TOMM,! 
ienk.i ;   the  Indian-;  cannot  surely  be  quite  destitute  of  intelli- 

•  cnl  men,  when  liiev  have  such  an  instructor." 

••  I  am  sorry  to  sav,'"    observed    Maria,  "that  the  Indians, 

although  they  have  ofien  benclilled  by  his  counsel,  are.  uni- 

vcrs;ili\-  throiiiiii   all  tlieir  tribes  too    inveterately  attached  to 

ancient  habit*,  to  derive  advantajre  from  his  instructions  .' 

iriv,    so    .ifreat    is   their  antipathy  to  all  kinds  of  knowledge 

10'    coinmnnifiitod    to   iliem   bv  their   ancestors,   that   \vhen- 

i   to  open  to  their  youth  anv  o|    the  stores 

"i  his  informaiion,  lliey  havt1  nnifoiinly  forbidden  him  ;  and, 

I    believe,  t!i  t;  ,,Mr  fnni'v  is  the  only  one  in  the   WiUlerness 

in  winch  his   benevolent  ellorts  to  communicate  knowledire 

to  the  uninformed  mind  ha-  been  thankfully  received." 

••Then  I  see  the  m\>!ery  explained!"    exclaimed   Wa-'h- 


18s  HIT    \vii.nr.RM>s. 


line-  natural  talents  yon  have  had  such  an  extraordinary  in 
structor!  Pardon  mo.  Miss  Frazier,  I  have,  perhaps.  said 
too  much  ;  hut  it  is  really  singular  and  pleasing  to  meet 
with  such  minds  as  1  have  m-'t  with  hcra!" 

'•Sir,"  said  Maria.  "I  knr.w  not  what  may  be  the  privi 
leges  o|'  your  sex  in  rocioiy  :  hut.  if  I  may  'credit  the  authors 
I  have  read,  they  have  always  heen  accustomed  to  work 
upon  the  vanity  of  ours  by  praising  our  excellence  bevnnd 
all  rational  hounds  :  and,  I  believe  the  dau<ihters  of  reline- 
menl  havo  always  permitted  them  to  indulge  this  display 
of  their  good  manners  at  the  expense  of  sincerity,  perhaps, 
because  thev  knew  the  exact  value  to  place  upon  it.  J'ut 
as  h.ere,  in  the  forest,  \vc.  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  this 
value  with  equal  precision,  I  think  our  safest  method  will 
be  to  dispense  with  the  custom  altogether,  and  tolerate,  from 
iho.se  who  converse  with  us,  only  such  language  as  is  con 
formable  to  truth  and  nature.  I.  therefore,  wish  —  " 

"Oh.  Miss  Frnzier!"  said  Vi  ashington,  interrupting  her 
with  considerable  emotion,  "  O'n,  believe  me.  if  I  have  of 
fended  your  delicacy,  it  was  done  involuntarily  —  and  lot  me 
say  in  my  own  justification,  that  ]  never  spoke  insincere!  v 
to  flatter  either  man  or  woman  :  and  that  concerning  yon  in 
particular,  I  have  not  expressed  half  —  ah  !  I  will  not  —  I  dare 
not  express  half,  I  think  of  your  merits  —  " 

"Stop,  sir,''  said  she.  "I  will  not  impeach  your  sincer 
ity  —  1  beleivc  you  incapable  of  uttering  opinions  yon  know 
to  be  unfounded  ;  but  in  this  instance  you  are  perhaps  too 
premature  in  your  conclusion?  —  a  little  more  time,  a  little 
more  acquaintance,  mi</;ht  show  your  first  impressions  to  bo 
erroneous.  1  will  accuse  you.  therefore,  of  nothing  but  in- 
caution.  to  which  I  request  that  so  far  us  respects  your  opin 
ion  of  me  you  will  plead  guilty,  and  let  us  end  the  discus 
sion.  " 

"Incautious  in  expressing1  that  opinion,"  replied  Washing 
ton,  "  I  may  have  been  ;  but  certainly  not  in  forming  it.  for, 
alas  !  I  cannot  resist  the  evidence  of  my  senses.  " 

"Well  then."  observed  Maria,  '-let  the  matter  rest  so: 
we  esteem  each  other  too  highly,  I  hope  to  contend  about 


rm:    \VII,T>J:R.V!>-  1S!> 

distinctions  ;  you  have  acknowledged  your  want  of 
i  :i  ition  in  one  particular;  this  is  as  much  as  1  can  ask  for, 
ive  no  ri<M;t  to  turn  your  confessor,  and  require  you  to 
in1  HIP,  me  of  every  litlie  l'oi!)Ie  and  mistake  into  which  you 
in  y  have  found  your-elf  falling.  Tonnaleuka's  character 
is  a  puMic  one,  and  therefore,  a  fair  subject  of  investigation. 
Wo  hen'an  \vith  it,  I  believe,  and  if  you  can  animadvert  upon 
it  without  complimenting  mine,  I  have  no  objection  to  join 
yi  u  on  the  subject;  for  tlicre  is  scarcely  another  in  tlic 
\v  Tld  that  could  allbrd  me  more  satisfaction." 

•'  1  am  desirous,"  observed  Washington,  cautiously  avoid- 
in  •.;  the  tempting,  but  forbidden  topic  of  her  praise  ;  <•  1  am 
dc.-irons  to  know  from  what  sources  this  singular  man  lias 
drawn  his  uncommonly  extensive  information.  A  philoso 
pher — a  prophet — and  a  savage  !—  how  can  we  reconcile  the 
sistemre  in  one  individual  of  characters  so  apparently 
contradictory  to  each  other?  " 

Iii;t,  reaber,  1  have  given  you  enough  of  this  dialogue  ; 
during  the  remainder  of  which  our  heroine  detailed  to  Wus.ii- 
iiM'ton  rdl  she  had  learned  of  the  prophet's  early  life,  and 
u;  portunities  of  acquiring  knowledge,  i  ou,  however,  know 
•  bout  this  already.  J  wil!  not,  therefore,  lease  you  need- 
h  slv  by  repeating  an  already-told  tale.  1  .shall  only  men- 
t',:ui  th:it.  during  this  conversation,  the  whole  hear!  and  tiffec- 
•  M:-  of  Washington  were  irrcelaimably  given  u[>  to  Mai  in, 
a. id  that,  although  i;,,'  on  !;e  enjoyed  was  great,  it 

\  is  dearly  enough  purchased  by  the  irretrievable  lo-:;  oi'  his 
i.. 'art's  tranquilliiy. 


CITAPTKR  X VII 1. 

Thorn  IK  ;i  hi'ih  and  ;nvsti<:  f-'po.ll, 

\\  iili  u  Inch  LiTo.-it  jiiiiids  supremely  s\v;i\ 

O'er  liiose  of  LTos-ici-  mould  ; 
Whose  nnmoless  JMIICHCV  ohov — 
The  cov,-;ird  IHK!  the  held, 
Nor  ol'its  source  M-i.'Tlit  the  history  c;i;i  loll. 
( ;n  hri:i;iii  fate  iii  darli  psl   '  01  r, 
Its  benms  of  !i<n;t  can 

A  lie    so;;:,-    its   il)t.oll(  Ctll;:]    :    I 

ISokPi-p  whose  <l;i//.iiiiLr  |ic;ui!  ihcv  cower, 

The   ]!--'Mlt    ofniltLnc  ' 

]]  \«K-F.T    OF    S(  H.VT'f . 

TiiEiu:  is  innny  ;i  f:iir  Ir.dy  in  Anioric::),  \vlio,  I  clciiilit  mil. 
will  iliink  it  a  if  mil  j)ily  that  tho  illiK-trinus  dinrnctcr,  \vlio 
luul  tints  h<vniii,"  a  r;ipti\-c  to  ]\];uia's  ch;irm>-,  f-houlil  ]\-.'.\-<' 
been  f;>(f(!  to  'hi'ow  avny  the  ardent  affections  of  his  niiinh' 
licnrt  upon  one  \vlio  couu!  not  n-iurn  ilicni.  Such  :i  one 
will  rejMvt  mrdi,  llnit  he  iiv.d  not  vi.-  it(-d  th.e  \Vii(!cri',es:-  a 
ycTir  sooner,  when  the  probability  would  liave  been,  th'it  he 
sliould  then  bove  c-iin'  ('  that  jiscendnncy  over  her  f'eeiini:>;, 
whirl1.  Charles  Addcrlv  now  possessed.  .N-iy,  liiere  M  ill  he 
some  iiidined  to  cb:dlen<;'!i  ih.e  ;icciin  cv  of  our  heroine's 
ta--ic  and  discernment,  in  not.  at  o'ice,  'jivinir  t!ie  prefereiiff! 
to  IKT  new  lover — wliosr;  we  kno\v  now  to  have  been 
to  the  •rifiric-u>  destiny  of  establishing  a  new  and  tvii:mp!;api 
era  for  the  rights  and  dio'iiitit-s  of  man  !  If  ever,  indeed,  a 
deviation  from  die  ri'.'id  line  of  constancy  in  love  eoidd  ad 
mit  of  aj:.olo;.'v,  it  would  lia.ve  been  in  this  instance  :  !;::i 
Maria  Fra/.icr.  lik(>  the  r.o'ole-liearted  youth  v/ho  had  nou- 
Ijecome  devoted  to  her,  was  resolved  never,  with  her  kno>\p- 
led(.re-,  to  do  anything  that  should  require  apology.  In  jus 
tification  of  her  discernment,  we  \vill  s.iy.  that  she  cir-;rlv 
saw  ail  Washington's  merits;  ami  although  she  could  noi 
foresee  all  hi-;  futnre  greatness,  she  esteemed  and  impeded 
him  as  much  as  if  she  did.  At  all  events,  had  he  been  even 
thf-n  the  coniiiieror  of  C^ornwallis,  and  ihr-  rmiincinafor  ol 


Tin:     WILDERNESS. 


Hut  V\'ashii;ii!'.>n    !  .,  he,    km  \v  not   that, 

any  one  possessed  lections,  i'or  \\  hich  he  t'clt  that  he 

could  sacrifice  evciy  consideration  hut.  one  to  obtain.  For 
'o  him  (here  was  somei'dn^;  more  dear,  more  sacred,  than 
'lie  dearest,  the  sweetest  {'iron  that  could  ever  warm  his 
hc'ari.  or  <_>!ve  pleasure  to  his  existence  —  more  dear  than  life, 
in  ore  dear  than  lame,  more  dear  than  even  that  Maria,  whose 
loveliness  had  enchanted  his  feelings  into  a  sense  of  hliss  he 
had  never  hclbre  known  —  it  was  his  DUTY.  This  was  the 
polar  star  that  irnidcd  all  his  actions  —  this  was  the  moving 
spirit  wnhin  him,  to  whore  diciates  he  was  resolved  that 
f-vi  ,  •  .•;.  every  lei-l'm^,  and  every  wish  of  his  exisi- 

enee.  shcnhl    hend.      H:H!   he   known    the   slate   of    Maria's 


deeply  on  his  heart,  as  almost  to  attain  an  irresistible  inllu- 
enee-  over  his  destiny,  it  is  probahle  that  ho  would  have  had 
resolution  enough  to  have  successfully  conibatted  atfainsi 
their  power,  and  to  have  preserved  that  freedom  which  lie 
iiii\v,  almost  without  n  stn^'irle,  yielded  to  their  fascination. 
lie  did  not.  however,  yield  hlimllv,  and  without  reflection, 
a-  many  lovers  (!••>.  lie  yielded  because  ho  conceived  it  id 
b;  his  dntv.  to  !;i\-e  nn  tho^o  youthful  aflVetions.  which  he 
ie'i  were  yet  unappropriated,  to  one  whom  Providence 
seemed  to  have  thrown  in  Ins  \vavas  the  most  siiilabh, 
since  she  was  the  mosl  lovely,  and  he  believed  lh(>  i, 
\  ii'iui  ;•  sex,  to  \vhom  he  could  attach  himself',  and  to 

one  of  whom  lie  knew  that  he  oy:Mh!,  sooner  or  later,  to  unite 
hi--  late. 

!!ein<>  now  upon  important  public  'onsiness  which  re 
qnired  despatch,  he  thought  i!  would  be  wron<_r  to  make 
such  ;i  (h-lay  at  her  lather's  lionse  as  would  justify  him  in 
makinir  a  d(;claration  o|'  his  feelinjrs,  or  even  attomplinjj  to 
enij;i<vr  he|-  allcctions  hv  any  attentions  ol  such  a  nature  as 
iniuhl  I;  I.  Alter  his  public  duty  should  be 

performed,  and  hi--  public  liiii(-uon>  expired,  he  would  then 
l>e  ma.-ter  ol  \n<  own  lime,  and  of  his  own  movements,  and 
v.  ilhont  nh-fructioit  iVi.in  -iu\-  duly.  In  could  retin'M  Ic  tb-. 


1  U'2  nn:   WILPLHNLSS. 

abode  of  Ills  Maria,  woo  her  affections,  icll  hor  how  he  loved 
her,  and  solicit  her  to  become  the  wife  of  his  bosom.  Those 
\vere  the  dreams  of  love  in  which  this  ymin<?  hero  now  de 
lighted  to  indulge;  those  were  the  captivating  pictures  of 
future  felicity,  the  endearing  scenes  of  domestic  bliss,  when 
Maria  should  bo  his  own,  which  his  fancy  loved  to  form  ; 
and  amidst  all  the  cares,  (he  dangers,  and  the  toils  of  the 
arduous  enterprise  he  had  undertaken  to  conduct,  these  ideas, 
these  visions  of  Maria,  love  and  happiness,  were  his  solace, 
his  joy,  and  the  bright  reward  which  he  hoped  would  crown 
ail  his  labors. 

Although  the  emotions  of  his  mind  had  kept  him  long 
sleepless  after  his  retiring  to  rest,  yet  he  was  early  awake  ; 
and  soon  had  the  three  companions  of  his  journey  wh»  re 
mained  with  him,  namely,  Vanbraam.  Gist,  and  one  Jenkins, 
at  work,  fixing  the  horses,  and  preparing  to  move  onwards. 
Their  good  host,  Gilbert,  however,  thought  it  would  never 
do  to  let  them  depart  without  breakfast  ;  and  he  pleaded  so 
hard  that  they  should  delay  till  it  was  prepared,  that  lie 
gained  his  point,  and  Nelly  put  it  in  a  state  of  forwardness. 
In  the  meantime,  according  to  their  agreement  the  preceding 
night,  Vanbraam  and  Gist  tried  the  accuracy  of  their 
and  the  steadiness  of  their  eyes,  upon  a  mark  at  a  hundred 
yards  distance,  which  each  pierced  so  clextrously  that  n 
was  difficult  for  Vv'ashington  to  allot  to  either  ihe  victory. 
The  distance  was  enlarged  to  ore  hundred  and  fifty  yard?, 
when,  after  sever;,!  trials,  Vanbraam  gained  a  slight  advan- 
:.:id  Gist  was  obliged,  though  with  groat  relucianco,  to 
rt  linonish  the  contest. 

At  lengih  they  set  forward,  and  Washington,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  felt  what  it  was  to  separate  from  the  object 
of  a  tender  love.  IJc  heaved  an  involuntary  sigh  as  he 
bade  her  adieu,  and  although  she  perceived  it,  and  suspected 
its  cause,  (for  she  was  loo  sagacious  to  be  easily  deceived  in 
this  matter,)  she  in  a  very  calm,  but  kindly  and  respectful 
manner,  wished  him  a  safe  and  prosperous  return  from  the 
perils  of  his  undertaking. 

"  Thank  you.  Miss  Frazier,"  was  all  he  said  ;  but  ho 
mentally  added,  "Oh!  may  heaven  soon  restore1  me  to  her 
lovely  presence,  and.  for  her  *akc  grant  peace  !«>  ','H  \Vildr-r 
ness  she  inhabit^  '  " 


\  lew  hours  brought  them  to  the  Shanapin's  town.  Here, 
with  the  eye  of  a  soldier,  he  beheld  the  point  of  land  where 
'}•••  Ai!r;'hanv  and  the  Monongahela  meet;  and  wa^  the 
first  persiiii  to  be  with  the  eligibility  oft.be  situation 

n  which  afterwards  ])n  Qnesne,  and  Fort  J;itt, 
were  successively  built.  This  was  in  consequence  of  the 
e'  -ei'di  erecting  tlie  former  of  these1  fortifications,  the  spot 
which  soon  afterwards  became  the  great  object  of  conten 
tion  between  the  two  most  powerful  nations  in  the  world, 
o,"-h  adopting  the  opinion  of  Washington  concerning  it.  as 
the  position  which  more  than  any  oilier  westward  of 
i!  . \lloohany  mountains,  was  calculated  to  give  its  posses- 
rr  -  the  command  of  the  largest  portion  of  country. 

li:  vinif  spent  some  time  in  estimating  the  height  of  the 
b  ;'.iks  and  the  breadth  of  the  rivers  at  this  place,  he  aecom- 
p:  aied  Shiii'riss.  kintr  of  the  Delaware?,  who  had  there  met. 
him  with  ten  or  twelve  of  hi*  warriors,  to  his  residence, 
si "lated  about  two  miles  lather  down  the  river,  upon  inc. 
b  ik  of  Thai-tier's  creek,  and  near  the  place  where  Charles 
A  derlv  had  been  defeated.  Here  be  found  that  doctor  Ivil- 
bi oath's  party  and  the  bai^a^e,  had  arrived  sale.  It  was 
si*  ir  the  evening,  when  he  reached  this  place,  but  as  he  was 
di  -irons  io  view  the  ground  on  which  our  hero's  disasters 
b  '  taken  place,  Shingii  ••  accompanied  him  to  the  spot,  with 
dcctor  Kiibrealh,  who  having  acquired  a  considerable  know- 
ie  lire  of  ibe  Indian  lanifiinire  a.cted  a.s  bis  interpreter. 

Mere  ho  saw  the  remains  of  the  hasty  fortification  that 
('  larles  had  attempted  to  construct,  and  perceived  some  of 
o<rs  \et  stained  with  the  blood  of  several  of  those  who 
in  defending  it.  Shingiss  also  pointed  out  to  him  the 
;-|  >t  where  Charles  slmv  the  youiiLr  Indian  chief,  Cara\vissa, 
a:  1  nave  him  an  account  of  the  desperate  encounter  between 
tl  an  of  which  be  was  an  eye-witness,  in  such  terms  as  rais- 
e>  Charles's  heroism  to  a  considerable  height  in  the  opinion 
o!  \\  .ishinaton  ;  and,  indeed,  the  whole  of  what  he  liea.rd 
ai  1  saw,  impressed  him  with  a  very  exalted  idea  of  his  char- 
aciei.  both  as  a  man  and  a  soldier. 

The  Indian  mode  of  (ioditiiiLT,  described  to  him  on  this  oc- 
c-  -ion,  by  skulking  and  keeping  up  an  irregular  (ire  from 
behind  trees,  or  from  ambuscades,  forciblv  struck  his  mind 


as  being  theonlv  one  suited  for  lh;i(.  woodv  connlry.  rn;;S 
the  only  one  by  which  its  red  wariors  could  IK>  successfully 
eombaiied.  lie  perceived,  therefore,  that  Charles  Adderly, 
hud.  in  a  mr.itaiy  point  of  view,  committed  a  ureaf  error  in 
attempting  t.>  defend  such  a  f:ail  forti'i<'a;io!i.  \vhen  the  thick 
ness  of  the  forest  offered  his  men,  in  every  direction,  infi 
nitely  securer  covers  for  defence,  as  '.veil  as  more  H^rihle 
points  from  which  to  attack.  lie  conceived  that  IK-  - 
io  have  order*  d  them  to  screen  themselves  in  the  wood-  a- 
soon  as  the  asaailan!:.;  appeared,  and  from  behind  frees  or 
ravines.  \(>  take  oil' by  a  sure  and  steady  fire,  any  enemy  that 
should  approach  them. 

The  next  morning,  in  company  with  Shingiss,  and  a  few 
of  his  warriors.  Washington,  and  his  whole  partv  proceed 
ed  to  the  Loire's,  town,  which  was  about  sixteen  miles  farther 
westward.  Here  a  number  of  the  chiefs  had  already  assem 
bled,  amonjj-  \vhoiu  he  distributed  the  presents  he  had  brought 
from  Virginia,  for  that  purpose.  •  These  presents  were  re 
ceived  graciously,  and  Washington  was  assi.red,  that,  he  had 
nothing  to  fear  for  his  party,  as  all  the  chiefs  present  wished 
to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Knirlish.  A  lartre  wigwam 
was  constructed  for  him  and  iiis  men,  around  which,  some 
of  Shinj/iss'  warriors  assisted  in  keeping  guard,  for  fear  of 
:Hiy  surprise  durintr  the  nio'ht. 

The  next  morning,  several  other  chiefs,  and  sachems, 
amoni>'  whom  were  those  of  the  Wianclots,  and  (^uiiilnie- 
vaofnos,  \vlio  were  hostile  to  the  Enslish,  arrived.  These 
hostile  chiefs,  however,  on  being  informed  that  Washington 
had  come  to  the  council  for  the  purpose  of  making  peace 
with  the  French  Indians,  after  which,  he  was  to  proceed  10 
Le  13(cuf,  to  make  peace  with  the  French  themselves,  accep 
ted  of  his  presents,  and  promised  to  listen  to  his  proposals 
without  molesting  him. 

A  council  feast  was  now  prepared,  at  which  Washington 
and  his  party,  were  invited  to  partake:  after  which,  all  the 
chiefs  smoked  the  calumet  with  him,  except  those  of  the 
hostile  tribes,  who  said  they  could  not  do  .so  until  they  knew 
the  terms  of  peace  he  should  oiler;  and  until  their  allies, 
the  French,  had  accepted  of  them,  and  ratified  a  treaty. 

At  length,   the  council  was  orrrani/ed.   and  Kustaloffa.  the 


r]  it; I  >  iciiem  ol'  the  Mino-oes,  being  declared  its  president, 
h.  addressed  Washington  as  follows  : 

•  Brother — You  arc:  \v(/lro;;ie  to  our  assembly.  Our  fa 
ll]  T,  the  governor  of  Virginia,  has  shown  his  wisdom  in 
sending  von  to  make,  peace  with  t!ie  red  nations,  :uul  their 
\\  liitc  allies.  I  shall  rejoice  \vi;en  I  he;ir  that  you  have 
prevailed  on  them  to  bury  tin;  hatchet,  and.  as  you  are  a 
pi'ident  man,  1  doubt,  not  that  von  uill  be  successful. 

••  Brothei — For  my  part.  1  have  been  always  friendly  to 
v<>ur  naiion.  I  did  not  approve  of  the  French  building-  Ions 
in  our  country,  without  our  consent.  But,  brother,  hear  me. 
I  will  '•peak  my  mind  freely,  concerning  both  your  nation, 
a;,d  tliat  of  the  French. 

•There  was  a  time — brother  you  ca'Miot  denv  it — when 
;  the  French  nor  you,  made  any  pretensions  io  our 
lands,  nor  disturbed  us  with  your  diputes.  We  then  lived 
in  peace,  where  our  lathers  had  lived,  {'or  more  than  a  him. 
(1  'oil  generations,  and  every  man  hunted  the  deer  and  the 
b  d'alo,  without  danger  from  the  encroachments  and  attacks 
o:  strangers. 

"  \t  wiiat  time,  brother,  either  you  or  the  French  obtained 
a  ri!.'hl  io  our  lands,  J  cannot  tell;  but  1  believe  never.  II 
\'Ui  were  then,  honest  men,  you  would  withdraw  into  your 
own  bounds,  and  not  attempt  to  usurp  our  property.  Is  no! 

t      i:-    !'i 

••  Brodier,  1  have  not  heard  so  much  complaint  agam>i 
\  our  nation  as  against  the  French.  1  have,  therefore, gener 
ally  sided  with  you,  although  many  ot'  us  think  that  if  yon 
\\ere  not  afraid  of  tin;  French,  von  would  encroach  upon  us 
a  much  as  they  have  done;  and,  as  to  the  enemie.s  von  have 
among  our  red  brothers  they  say  that  your  people  to  the  ea  , 
ii  .New  Knglnml,  have  been  more  bitter  against  us  than  even 
tin:  French  were.  This  may  be  tine,  but  you  yourscll  no 
(ioiibi  know  w bother  or  not. 

••  But,  attend  me,  brother,  1  do  not 
?;  eak  with  sincerity;  and  1  sav  it,  alt 
and  the  ( 'aughnewagoes,  their  allies, 
1  re  neb  ihems!  1  ves  know  it. 

••  ilroiher,  listen  to  what  I  told  the  French  commander.- 

islcnsk   ill  prjc  '21^.  !••  t.iAcii  iionrl"  \  (  r!i;il  mi  'Von 


ilJL     \\  ILL'LU.NE:-.-. 

lately  at  he  Utjeuf,  when  1  was  sent  by  my  tribe  and  the  IVi- 
awarcs  to  dismiss  them  oil'  our  land. 

"Fathers!"  said  1,  ••  1  am  come  to  tell  you  your  own 
speeches  ;  what  your  own  mouths  have  declared.  Father:-  ! 
you  iu  former  days  set.  a  silver  basin  before  us,  wherein 
there  was  the  le^  of  a  bjaver,  and  desired  all  nation  to  conn1 
and  eat  of  it,  to  eat  in  peace  and  plenty,  and  not  be  churled 
to  one  another. 

".Now,  iathors,  by  the  edi>\:  of  this  dish  1  luy  down  a  rod, 
that  if  any  person  be  founii  to  be  a  disturber,  you  may  scourge 
him  there wiili,  and  even  if  1  should  get  foolish  in  mv  ol  1 
days,  L  desire  you  not  to  spare  me.  And  it  you  should  be 
in  fault,  fathers,  should  not  the  rod  injustice  be  used  upon 
you  as  well  as  upon  others  ' 

•'  ?sow,  fathers,  it  is  yon  who  are  the  disturbers  in  thi.-- 
laud,  by  coming  and  building  your  towns  in  it,  and  taking- 
it  away  unknown  to  us,  and  by  force.  i\ow  is  it  not  yon 
who  should  bear  the  infliction  of  this  lod  .' 

•'  Fathers,  we  kindled  a  lire  a  lon-r  time  airo,  at  a  place 
called  .Montreal,  where  we  desired  you  to  stay, and  not  come 
and  intrude  upon  our  land.  I  now  desire  that  you  may  de 
spatch  back  to  that  place,  for  be  it  known  unto  you,  fathers, 
that  tliis  is  our  land,  and  not  yours. 

"Fathers — ]  desire  you  may  hear  me  in  civilness.  If  no!. 
we  must  handle  that  rod  which  was  laid  down  for  the  use  of 
the  unruly.  If  you  had  come  in  a  peaceable  manner  like  our 
brothers,  the  English,  we  would  not  have  been  a.^aitijt  youi 
trading  with  lisas  they  do.  Hut  to  come,  fathers!  and  build 
houses  upon  our  land,  and  take  it  by  force,  is  what  wi 
not  submit  to. 

'•Fathers — both  you  and  the  Kn^iish  are  while — we 
in  a  country  between  you.  and  the  land  belongs  10  neither  oi 
you.  l)ii!  the  CJreat  IJe'mu1  above  allowed  it  to  he  a  place  ol 
residence  for  us;  so  fathers,  I  desire  yon  to  withdraw,  as  1 
have  done  our  brothers,  the  Jvirrlish — for  we  will  keep  you 
at  arms  length.  I  lay  this  down  as  a  trial  for  you  both,  to 
see  which  will  have  the  «rca!est  regard  for  it,  and  that  side 
we  will  stand  by,  and.  make  equal  sharers  with  us.  Our 
brothers,  the  iv.ig'lish  ha\e  heard,  this,  and  I  now  come  to  lei  I 
it  you — for  I  am  not  afraid  to  discharire  you  oti'  (.his  land. 


THE     WILDERNESS.  197 

"  I  then  gave  him  back  his  wampum,  that  our  friendship 
r-'iiirht  be  at  an  end. 

••  Hear  me,  brother — You  will  see  why  1  dislike  the  French 
--Their  ;>;enera!  made  nv  this  reply. 

••  Xow.  my  child,  I  have  heard  your  speech.  You  spoke 
iii's!,  it,  is  my  ti:i.e  to  speak  no\v.  YVheia  is  my  wampurn 
tiiat  you  took  away,  with  iha  marks  of  towns  in  it  '  This 
wampum  I  (i.)  not  know,  winch  you  now  ;;>;'; vo  me  to  dis 
charge  me  oil"  the  hud.  Hut  you  need  not  have  put  your 
self  to  the  trouble,  for  i  will  not  mind  it.  I  am  notafraidof 
(lies  or  musquitoes,  and  Indians  are  no  better  than  these.  I 
f  toll  vou,  down  that  river  I  will  go,  and  build  there,  as  I 
i:a\e  been  ordered.  It'  the  river  was  blocked  up,  I  have 
'iv-  sufficient  to  burst  it  open,  and  to  tread  under  my  feet 
;  ,1  who  oppose,  together  with  their  allies:  for  my  force  is 
the  s  .  Therefore,  here  is  your 

wampum — I  fling  il  at  \ 

••Child!  you  talk  foolishly.  You  say,  that  this  land  is 
\ours,  but  there  is  not  so  much  as  the  black  of  my  nail  of 
n  yours.  It  is  my  laud,  and  I  will  have  it  ;  let  who  will  say 
:  linst  it.  You  may  buy  and  sell  with  the  English  as  you 
i)lea-e — but  the  land  shall  be  mine.  If  your  people  will  be 
nned  by  me,  they  may  expect  kindness,  but  not  otherwise." 

I  then  asked  him  wh  it  he  had  done  with  the  English  pn- 
-oners  that  the  (."hippeways  had  ukeu  last  year.  He  replied, 

••  Child,  do  in):  concern  yourself  about  this  matter.  You 
think  it  a  grea'  hardship  that  we  took  those  people.  But  we 
>ent  them  to  Canada  to  inform  the  governor  of  what  the  En- 
L'lish  intend  against  us. 

"  Brother,  I  have  told  you  ad.  Take  this  wampum  and 
iet  me  hear  you." 

Washington  received  the  wampum  and  replied — 

"  Brother — I  am  glad  to  meet  my  brothers  here  in  council. 
L  thank  yon  for  this  wampum,  and  for  the  good- will  you  have 
in-inii'es'ed  for  my  nation.  I  have  been  ordered  by  your 
brother,  the  (.'ovrrnor  of  Virginia,  to  acquaint  you,  that  I 
must  proceed  with  all  possible  despatch,  to  visa  the  French 
commandant,  and  to  deliver  to  him  a  letter  of  very  great  im 
portance  to  your  brothers,  the  English  ;  and,  I  believe,  also 
to  you  their  friends  and  allies. 

18 


198  TUB    WII.UKR.: 

"  I  was  desired,  by  your  brother,  tiie  Governor,  to  call 
upon  you  the  sachem?  of  I  hi.'  nations,  to  inform  you  of  my 
errand,  and  to  ask  your  advice  and  assistance  how  to  pro 
ceed  by  the  best  and  nearest  road  to  the  r'mieh.  You  see, 
brother,  I  have  <rot  thus  far  on  my  journey. 

"  His  honor  also  de<i;e:l  me  to  apply  to  \  on  for  provi 
sions,  and  for  some  of  your  young  men  to  conduct  us  on  our 
way,  and  to  be  a  faff  miaul  against  the  French  Indians,  who 
have  taken  up  the  hatchet  a;;;;  ins!  us.  I  have  spoken  thus 
particularly  to  you,  brothers,  because  his  honor  the  Gover 
nor-wishes  to  treat  you  as  his  friends  and  allies,  and  holds 
you  in  great  esteem. 

'•  To  confirm  yen  in  what  I  have  said,  I  give  you  this  string 
of  wampum/" 

Masaakenkas,  the  chief  of  the  Wiandots,  now  addressed 
the  presiding  sachem. 

"Brother — if  you  will  hear  one  who  speaks  plainly — one 
who  flatters  no  person,  you  will  attend  to  me.  I  approve 
not  of  these  proceedings  :  this  low  submission  to  an  English 
emissary  who  is  sent  here  to  sow  dissention  between  us  and 
our  French  allies. 

"Brother — did  you  think  I  would  listen  to  your  abuse  of 
my  friends,  and  not  rise  to  reply  I  I  knew  the  French  eom- 
mandmant — he  is  now  dead.  1  heard  so  but  yesterday,  and 
while  his  memory  is  yet  green  in  my  mind,  I  will  not  hear  it 
traduced,  unanswered. 

Brother!  He  was  a  man  of  truth.  He  often  told  me  that. 
the  designs  of  the  English  were  to  engross  the  west,  as  they 
have  already  engrossed  the  east,  for  their  people,  f  believed 
him  ;  for  I  have  seen  enough  of  the  English  on  the  banks  of 
the  Genesee  and  the  Mohawk  not  to  know  their  intention* 
against  us. 

"  Brothei — the  genera!  no  doubt  told  you  the  same.  \Vliy 
did  you  not  believe  him  I  \Yhy  will  not  King  Shiiigiss  nor 
queen  ASliquippa  believe  him  '.  Because  your  minds  are  full 
of  the  stories  of  the  English  traders  who  came  down  the 
river.  And  who  are  those  English  traders?  What  kind  of 
men  are  they  J-  Have  you  not  found  them  out,  and  have  you 
not  often  acknowledged  them  to  be  cheats,  imposters,  and 
liars!  Brother,  have  you  ev<-r  found  truth  in  anv  ot  them  ' 


1HK     \\1LDEK.SKSS.  99 

>.  o — 1  will  answer  for  you;  and  1  will  say  that  sooner  will 
you  tint!  the  waters  of  tin:  Ohio  flowing  back  over  the  Alle- 
i:.ienv  mountains  to  mix  \\ilh  the  <xre;:.i  sea  on  tlie  east,  tnan 
li.ul  honesty  in  any  of  their  miners  that  come  amonii'  you. 

•'  iirother — I  do  not  think  we,  should  grant  an  escort  to 
:  nd  the  enemies  who  are  no\v  in  o  ir  in  safety  to 

i;ie  French.  The  French  are  tender-hearted,  and  will  noi 
put  them  to  death.  Thcs.:  men  will  he  only  burthensome 
u>  our  aiiies — who  will  not  thank  us  for  sparing  them. 

"  Let  us,  therefore,  act  wisely,  and  not  be  timid-hearted 
:n  the  malier.  Let  us  teach  the  English  to  send  no  more  of 
their  emissaries  as  spies  amnn(_r  us,  under  the  pretence  of 
..iship.  I  know  their  nation  too  well  m.t  to  suspect  that 
>  lere  is  some  treachery  in  the  pretensions  o!  this  man — 
v.-hom,  ii'  you  do  riiMit,  and  act  prudently,  you  will,  with  all 
i:is  companions,  immediately  put  to  death.  !f  not  you  will 
at  1.  a.-t,  order  them  to  reiimj.  at  once,  to  their  homes. 

"  Brother,  you  have  heard  mv  proposal — is  there  not  vvit- 
i'om  in  it  .'" 

Thi*  proposal,  in  its  most  murderous  tendency,  was  warmly 
.-upported  by  several  orators  of  the  \Vyandots  and  the 
( -auorhuewagoes — one  of  the  latter  of  whom  fiercely  ex- 

I       '  1 

"  \Vhat,  brotiK-r.^  !  win  n  the  serpent  is  in  your  bosom, 
'viil  you  iondle  with  him  till  he  stimf  you  !  \\  ill  you,  like 
••hildren,  spoil  \\ith  the  i;litterin<r  of  his  scales  till  he  inlu- 
-es  his  destructive  venom  into  your  hearts,  wiien  ai  a  single 
-troke  you  mi^ht  crush  him  to  death,  and  free  yourselves 
irom  danger  and  the  reproach  of  tolly  ! 

'•  Mrotliers — Let  us  sei/e  thesi:  men,  and  sucrhice  them  to 

"iir   wrath.      It  will   gratify  our    allies — it  will  strike   terror 

nto  our  eii'MJiies,  ami  save  ourselves  from  many  future  cala- 

:l)liii:s.  " 

[\usi.iloo-i,   Shiniriss,   and  tlicir   parts',   opposed  thoe  vio- 
unl  councils  to  the  utmost  of  their  power,   but  as  the  Shan- 
loaii  chiefs  had  not   attended  the    assembly  according  to  ex 
pectation,   they  were    likelv  to  be   overcome   by  the    weight 
uid  fury  of  the  French  party.      The  followers  ol   the  latter, 
therefore,   who  wi.-hed  lor  the  destruction  of  the  white  men, 
miceiviiuz  that  it  would  be  inevitably  determined  on,  attemp- 


21)0  THK.     WILDERNESS. 

ted  to  surround  them,  and  heat  oil'  I  lie  Delaware*,  v.'ho 
iirmiv  kept  their  ground  as  their  protectors.  A  considerable 
clamor  and  confusion  took  place,  and  blows  would,  no  doubt 
have  soon  i)ceu  exch;  consequence  of  which  would, 

in  all  probability,  have  been  the  destruction  of  Washington 
and  his  follower.-",  ns  th;-i:  iar  more  deter 

mined  to  carry  iiieir  point.  t;;:\n  ihe.ir  friends,  when  the  ap 
proach  01  ihe  ptophei  Tonneleuka  was  announced. 

iie  hastily  entered  the  area,  which  miffht  be  called  the 
council  ring,  with  fire  flashing  from  his  eyes,  his  hair  stream 
ing  111  tiie  wind,  -and  his  hands  and  his  awful  wand  extend 
ed  forward,  as  if  he  \\cre  rushino-  to  arrest  ihe  vengeance  of 
heaven  ere  it  burst  upon  their  devoted  heads.  Silence  and 
order  hau  taken  place  tiie  moment  he  was  announced,  and 
now  all  eyes  were  immoveably  iixed  upon  him,  and  the 
boldest  in  the  council  perceiving  that  displeasure  and  wrath 
were  marked  in  his  countenance,  sat  aghast  and  breathless 
to  hear  the  annunciation  of  his  errand. 

"  iJroiiier.--,  brothers!''  he  exclaimed — "  What  were  ye 
about  to  do  .'  Thank  tiie  Clreat  Spirit  that  he  has  in  mercy 
arrested  your  impious  hands.  What!  would  you  destroy 
the  favorite  of  heaven!  would  you  slay  the  chosen  of  A'lane- 
to  !  for  know!  short-sighted  mortals  that  ye  are,  this  vei  v 
man  whom  ye  denounced,  and  were  goinsr  to  sacrifice  as  an 
impostor  and  a  spy,  has  been  born  to  fulfil  destinies  which 
will  benefit  ail  mankind.  The  whole  of  this  waste  wilder 
ness  will  yet  bloom  and  flourish,  in  cousequence  of  his  great 
deeds  and  heroic  virtues. 

"Shrink,  brothers,  ami  shudder  at  the  thought  of  what 
vou  were  s/oing  to  do! — tor  had  you  done  it,  it  would  have 
brought  a  terrible  perdition,  the  unuilerable  pan«is  inflicted 
by  Hie  \\raih  oi  the  (ireat  Spirit  upon  you.  Repent  for  your 
intended  crime,  be  thankful  lor  vour  providential  escape.  1 
will  pray  tor  you,  and  you  will  he  iorgiven. 

"  Oh,  Maneto  !  "  he  cried,  directing  his  looks,  and  lifting 
his  holy  wand  towards  heaven — "Oh,  Maneto!  Thou  who 
haot  graciously  preserved  these  people  from  the  crime  of 
murdering  him  whom  thou  hast  selected  from  among  rnen 
to  execute  the  benevolent  designs  thou  hast  in  view  for  the 
world,  they  repent  that  they  intended  it;  and  they  implore 


THE     WILIJKRNK-SS  201 

for  forgiveness.     Oil  !  assure  us  that  tliou  lu'si  forgiven 
\Vhut  siirn  shall  we  ask  iVoin  thee  that  they  are  fur 
Oh.    M.meto!   let  this  be  the  sign  !   Shew   the  ene- 
1  i-!1  '.  that  he  is  so   especially  under 

e .  "!i  his 
• 

i  to  for- 

•  •  any  of  hi-  companions  during 

"icir  pros  •  ting  in  this  country  !    Grant  this  now  ti) 

'  ik     •  ' •••<•  ••,   '  '       '        to  !   so  that  all   who  see  it,  and  all  who 

••  of  i'.   may  see  that  lie  is  under  thy  care,  and  that 

!     •  ill    }i>-   '-."'•' \    in: n<  --i'-l^  Hi"    nnv  one  to  h?.rni    him,    and 

i-n:;unal  t  'it. " 

\t  ihi^   nv.i'.iient,   to  the  astonishment  and  conviction   of 

MVf-ry  one   prr.sent,   Paddy  Fra/:ier  entered  the  coiincil  rin«, 

1  :<  written  p-jjjt-,-  addres>ri!   to  the  chiefs   and    warriors 

of  ali  the  nations  in  alliance  with  the  Frnvh,  d'-sirini:  them 

•o  •'  respect,  and  IM  'rts  of  George 

Washinyion,  and  ilu-se  of  !  .   so  that  neither  shall  be 

in  any  manner  anr  I,  employed  in  either 

proceeding  on,  or  '.•••turning  from  their  present  mission  to  the 

mmanding  the  fort  and  ion  es  of  his  most  (Christian 

at  Le  ]!o-:if,  on  pain  oi'  anv  infringement  uj)on  this 

order   hei.'i!j   con^idere.l   as  ;:   !);-epch   of  wh:itever   treatv   or 

treaiies  mav  exist  hetween  !'ie  (>[)Vnder  and  his  most  (.'hri^t 

ian  Majestv  afores.ud. ''     Tiiis  document  was  signed   by  Le 

Gardenr  ih:  St.    Pierre,   commanding  oiiicer   at  \tu  Ikvul. 

It  may  he  h^re  mentioned,  that  Paddy  had  accidentally 
met  this  oiiicer  at  Vcnan<.»o,  and  ukained  from  him  the  above 
passport  without  diilicnhy. 

.Massakoukas,  and  the  other  hootile  cliiefs  no'.v  expressed 
their  sorrow  for  their  ra.-hness,  and  withdrew  all  further 
Oj)j)osi;ion  to  the  friendly  intentions  of  Shini.'i-s  and  ivusta- 
Joo.i  1:1  favor  of  Washington. 


THE     \\II.UKRNE3S. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Danger  is  '/lorv's  ihnr.u  d  world. 
Whose  <rold<  n  sands  and  amber  seas 

To  dastards  are  unknown  ; 
V\  here  never  tributary  !>reexe 

Their  banner  has  unfurled, 
And  to  that  will!  ami  brilliant  zone, 

Which  vulLT.'!1'  souls  can  inner  knou, 
Tho  sons  e>i';rlorv  cal]  theii  own, 

'Tis  theirs,  and  th"irs  nlone:  to  <m, 
Till  through  ioiuf  years  oi'pain  and  toil 
They  reac.h  its  shore  —  they  tre;ul  its  soil  ; 
Thru  on  their  native  iand  its  splendors  they  bestow. 

H.VSKET  OF  SCRAPS. 

SEVEUAL  circumstances,  chiefly  owing1  to  some  difficulty 
which  Kustaloga  had  in  finding  certain  strings  of  wampum 
that  lio  wished  to  return  to  the  French,  as  an  evidence  of 
his  withdrawing  from  all  dependence  upon  them,  occurred 
to  detain  Wnsliiiio-tnii  some  days,  very  much  against  his  in- 
:'!iu;ition.  at  the  Loggstown. 

At  length,  on  the  last  day  of  November  he  and  his  whole 
party  proceeded  on  their  journey,  attended  hy  several  In 
dian  chiefs  in  the  character  of  companions,  rather  than  pro 
tectors,  as  it  was  helieved  that  no  protection  \vas  at  present 
needed.  They  took  the  way  to  Venango,  which  was  then 
the  nearest  French  station  to  the  Ohio,  and  arrived  there 
on  the  fifth  day,  without  meeting  with  any  thing  particularly 
disagreeable,  except  bad  weather;  a  circumstance  which 
formed  indeed  but  a  small  obstacle  to  so  resolute  a  mind, 
and  so  healthy  a  frain"  ;>s  Washington's,  in  the  perform 
ance  of  his  dutv. 

Here  he  was  politely  received  bv  a  Captain  Joncaire, 
who  commanded  at  this  station,  but  who  did  not  possess 
sufficient  authority  to  treat  on  the  subject  of  governor  l.)in- 
widdic's  letter.  From  this  man,  who  appears  to  have  been 
both  a  free  liver,  and  a  free  speaker,  using  wine  and  oaths 


THE     WILDERNESS. 

in  equal  abundance,  \\  ashington  became  fully  apprised  of 
the  intentions  of  the  French  in  respect  to  the  country  in 

i!  -nine. 

ll;i \in.'f  become  pre'iv  mellow  over  his  cups,  while  he 
treated  our  party  with  a  iiowmg  mid  jovial  hospitality,  he 
I- iid  iheiu  without  reserve  that  it  was  the  intention  of  his 
gov  'nnnent  to  take  possession  of  all  the  country  round  the 
i  liio. 

"  We  are  resolved  to  (Jo  it."  said  he,  "and  by  G — d  we 
\ull  do  it.  \Ve  know  that  you  English  can  raise  two  men 

for  our  one,  but  you're  so  d d  slow  in  your  motions  that 

\  on  never  can  make  head  against  us.  \\  e  hear  that  some 
of  your  families  design  to  settle  at  Shanapin's  town  in  the 
?•  ;.)rin^:  but  we'll  soon  pick  them  up,  by  heavens,  and  then 
to  Quebec  with  them,  to  ease  their  consciences  of  the 
job!"" 

As  no  business  could  be  done  at.  this  place,  Washington 
re-commenced  his  journey  as  soon  as  possible,  for  the  fort 
at  I,"  Bttuif,  to  which  Joncaire  ordered  a  small  party  of  sol- 
liiers  to  escort  him.  The  fori  was  about  sixty  miles  distant, 
and  the  difficulty  of  travellinir,  owing1  to  the  excessive  rains 
:  nd  snows  that  had  fallen,  and  the  numerous  mires  and 
•  u'ainps  over  which  they  were  obliged  to  pass,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  creek,  winch  had  become  so  hi<_rh  and  rapid  as  to 
render  its  passage  impassable,  was  so  <>Teat  that  they  were 
•ijiward.-  of  four  days  in  reachin  •  •  . 

The  commander  at  (<"  Bo?uf  had  very  shortly  before  as- 
>urned  that  station,  upon  t!i(!  death  of  the  iaie  general.  He 
.'ei'cived  Washington  with  <freat  complaisance,  but  declined 
akinir  his  business  into  consideration  until  he  should  con 
sult  the  commander  of  the  neighboring  fort  who  was  imme 
diately  sent  for.  It  was  four  days  before  the  affair  was 
-cttled,  and  an  answer  to  oovernur  Dinwiddie's  letter  recei- 
.ed.  This  answer,  we  an  informed  bv  the  history  of  the 
times,  was  far  irom  h.'ini!'  satisfactory,  containing  no  indica 
tion  whatever  on  lh"  ]>art  oi  tile  l''renc!i,  to  withdraw  from 
the  contested  coiiMirv  :  but  the  whole  management  oi'  Wash 
ington  in  the  arduous  and  hazardous  enterprise  of  thus  as 
certaining,  in  an  official  manner,  their  real  sentiments  and 

*  sec  Washington's  Journnl. 


204  THE     WILDERNESS. 

intentions,  merited  and  obtained  from  all  classes  of  his  coun 
trymen,  the  warmest  approbation  and  praise. 

Having  obtained  this  document,  which  was  to  be  decisive 
of  the  question  of  peace  or  war  between  ihe  two  crowns,  he. 
lo^t  no  time  in  commencing  his  vet  urn  homewards,  ;-s  ho 
knew  the  public  mind  anxiously  w;  .im  tl-.e  result  of 

his  enterprise. 

The  disappointment  of  his  hopes  m  securing  peace  to  his 
country,  preyed  greatly  upon  his  mind,  for,  unlike  the  gen 
erality  of yourg  men  possessed  of  high  military  ardor,  his 
heart  sickened  at  the  contemplation  of  these  calamities, 
which  war,  and  especially  war  with  savages,  never  fails  to 
inflict  upon  humanity.  In  the  present  instance,  in  particu 
lar,  he  could  not  help  feeling  an  airony  of  soul  at  the  idea  of 
the  evils  to  which  she,  whom  he  loved  belter  th-'i!  the  whole 
world,  would,  during  the  appro:  ,  peculiarly 

exposed. 

"  Oh  !  may  heaven  protect  her  from  the  calamities  with 
which  she  will,  too  soon,  be  surrounded!"  be  mentalh  ex 
claimed;  "alas!  that,  for  her  own  sake,  she  would  consent 
to  be  mine,  that  I  mi;;'h(.  transplant  lie;1  to  a  more  secure 
abode.  But  if  she  will  not  consent,  may  !  have  power  to 
watch  over  her  safety,  and  protect  JUT,  own  shoulff  it  be 
unknown  to  herself,  from  misfortune.  Sweet,  sweet  will  he 
the  employment,  if  I  can  only  make  it  comport  with  my 
public  dut', .  31  N  co'.mtry,  )ny  country!  yes,  thy  welfare- 
must  be  the  first  object  of  my  solifilude.  Oh,  IV]  aria.  !  mv 
dearly  beloved  maiden,  forgive  n>e,  if  even  to  thine.  I  prefer 
my  country's  happiness.  Oh,  heaven  !  I  feel,  alas!  that  I 
am  scarcely  sincere  in  saying  so;  but  tbou  wilt  pardon  mv 
weakness,  if  I  am  insincere ;  for  then  knowest  that  I  love 
that  maiden  more  ardently,  alas: — <-r  >>»  <]>;it  it  may  not  be 
more  ardently  than  I  \o\  c  my  couhiry." 

In  tb.is  state  of  mind,  agitated  by  ho'h  love  and  patriotism, 
Washington  bade  adieu  to  Le  BCPUJ',  and  descended  lh<; 
creek,  on  the  banks  of  which  it  was  built,  in  a  canoe  ac 
companied  by  another  containing  the  bajnrage  and  two  or 
three  of  his  people,  the  horses,  being  almost  worn  out  with 
fatigue,  having  been  sent,  unloaded,  under  charge  of  his 
other  companions  some  days  before,  to  proceed  at  easy 


THE    WILDERNESS.  205 

10  Tiievs  u>  Shanapin's  town,  and  there;  await  his  arrival. 
Si  >\v  and  rain,  i'rost  and  ihaw,  h:;d  alternately  for  many 
dr'  s  rendered  ii.:1  wciMher  extremely  dis  ',  and  his 

IK  -.sao-f.   down  tile  <  '  and 

r.i    id    siate,    v^as    both  \  oral 

s  [he  ("inot's  were  almost  s'aved  ii;raia:-.t  rocks;   am 
qi  "ntly  b(  coming  a!.-1,  all  hands  were,  obliged 

out  :  !i;l    rc  iii'nn   in    i  an   iioar  at  a  tun-'. 

i  income 

solid  .  iiu-ir 

v/   y  with  ii  imense  •:"  cai:oes 

u1  T    hind    io   v.-hcrc    thsy    migh     :  I  ^iioso 

laiiors,  Washington  peribnn  •    than  double  duty,  and 

tental  jjerseve- 
r;    ire  and  ioL'iitndf .  b'r1  -i.in^per- 

t!  ^  cnnoes  rc    -  '-rook 

v   th  the  A  lit" 

:ICK~:  anil  the   hudi1-  -nted 

t!^ni  !Vo;n  irettin^  aay  1'irrii      •  nru- 

•;inc  lixed 

i       ill','    irf,    \vi\!!'!l    \.  :   K'jrk    111) 

ver.      'i'  ;  wi'ii  as  much 

nd  everv  iran  also 
f  v/ith  as  iv  as  pos 

sible,     'i'he  weakness  '  .  ,  rendered  their 

]  roin-ess  so  si<i\v.  :  •   m(>re  to 

ye    Aiaria.  and  io;-\var(i    his   »     spate  n  s,  ihat 

t.:ere  \vas  no  ;  rsonalh   \vailijiif  on  (ho  slow  in'Mions 

(  :  IMS  partv,  dele«ratf!d  to  vanhraani  th"  e!iar;n'  01  hrmijinof 
t  iciii  td  l^ivi/ier's  b.o!'--e.  whore  hi:  "ri'fided  to  remain  till 
•  "••.  a ;•;•;•  .-.I. 

!)<•  )!"•:]  'iire\v  oil'  his    n--nal    elolh"s.  \'  rapped  himsell'  in 

;ck,  in  wiiicii  h^jiyd 

ve'ired  Ins  ii"e-'ssar\'  pap'-rs  and  ii/os  i-ions,  ;uid  \^'Mh  his 
!  lie  :;i  IIH  hand  a:id  a.  (ia;'~'/.ir  a!  I; is  side,  hastened  onwards, 
:,(•.(•(•> nioamed  l>y  i'a<!i'y  l''ra/ier,  efinipped  and  armed  in  n 
;  imd.tr  manner.  They  journeyed  briskly  n  ;l  boldly  amidst 
".•oods.  through  thinkers,  n\-er  mor,i~:~es,  :,  .,  swollen  rivers. 


206  THE     WILDERNESS. 

and  deep  ravines,  lor  two  days,  when  they  fell  in  with  a 
party  of  three  French  Indians,  who  had  laid  an  ambush  for 
them.  These  fired  at,  our  travellers  when  only  about  twelve 
yards  distant,  but  miraculously  missed  them.  Faddy  imme 
diately  killed  one  of  these  men,  and  Washington  gave  chase 
to  another,  whom  he  soon  overtook  and  made  prisoner. 
This  fellow  acknowledged  that  he  had  taken  a  deliberate 
aim  at  Washington,  and  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses 
when  he  saw  that  lie  had  missed  him,  for,  he  said,  "it  was 
the  only  aim  lie  ever  recollected  to  have  taken  at  six  times 
the  distance  without  striking  his  object." 

Paddy  catching  at  this  idea,  resolved  to  work  upon  the  su 
perstitious  feeling  of  the  Indian,  and  boldly  asserted  that 
Maneto  had  made  Mr.  Washington's  body  impenetrable  1o 
any  ball  that  should  ever  be  fired  with  gunpowder;  and  that 
the  Indians  might  as  we'd  aim  at  one  of  the  stars,  with  the 
expectation  of  piercing  it,  as  at  him.  As  this  prisoner  was 
sje*t  at  liberty  the  iiexuiav,  ho  circulated  Paddy's  information 
through  all  his  tribe,  from  whom  it  soon  snread  among  the 
neighboring  nations  :  and  that  Washington  possessed  such  a 
miraculous  property  is  i  ,  believed  by  many  of  them. 

Two  days  after  escaping  the  foregoing  peril,  they  encoun 
tered  another,  from  which  it  reqired  more  dexterity,  and  in 
finitely  greater  presence  of  mind  to  extricate  themselves. 
They  had  gained  the  Aileghany  river  about  two  miles  above 
Shanapin's  tou  si,  ne .my  opposite  to  an  island,  now  called 
Wainright's  '  i  i-old  they  had  endured,  they 

expected  to  find  the  river  so  crumpleiely  frozen,  that  they 
would  have  no  trouble  in  passing  over.  Out  instead  of  this 
they  found  its  waters  greatly  raised,  and  carrying  down,  in 
a  rapid  stream,  large  masses  of  ice,  which  passed  along  with 
so  much  velocity  as  to  threaten  every  tiring  they  should 
encounter  with  destruction. 

Pass  the  river,  however  they  knew  they  must,  otherwise 
the  Chance  was,  that  they  would  soon  be  discovered  by  bands 
of  the  hostile  Indians,  whom  they  had  every  reason  to  sup 
pose  were  now  pursuing  them  ;  and  there  was  no  way  for  it. 
but  by  a  raft,  to  make  M'hich  they  possessed  no  other  tool 
than  one  very  indifferent  hatchet.  To  men  like  them,  how 
ever,  no  difficulties  are  insuperable.  To  work  they  set,  and 


THE     WILDERNESS.  20? 

in  something  less  than  a  day   they  had  a  raft  constructed  of 

logs  fastened   together  with    hickory  withes,  on   which  they 
vf  ntured  to  commit  themselves  to  the  flood. 

In  pushing  it  across  the  stream  with  their  poles  they  had 
gr;at  dnilfimv  in  keeping  ch:ar  of  the  large  fragments  of  ice 
ihu  were  rolling  down  \viih  apparent  fury,  as  if  they  would 
dash  the  frail  structure  to  which  they  had  now  committed 
their  safety,  to  pieces.  In  defiance  of  all  their  efforts,  it  at 
h-'iath  became  entangled  with  a  huge  mass,  which  got  un 
derneath  its  edge,  and  drove  it  onwards.  Washington  with 
his  pole  made  a  violent  effort  to  clear  it  from  this  mass,  by 
using  his  whole  strength  to  push  it  aside,  when,  unfortunately, 
the  pule  slipped  from  under  him,  and  be  fell  into  the  Hood, 
in  a  depth  of  more  than  twenty-feet  of  water.  We  struggled 
fur  several  minutes  wilii  the  stream  and  the  flocks  of  ice  that 
v  ere  passing  around  him,  and  sometimes  over  him,  but  his 
efforts  would  have  been  fruitless,  and  he  would  have  been 
lust  to  a  truly  bereaved  world,  had  not  his  companion  with 
great  dexterity  and  considerable  risk,  contrived  to  introduce 
i:  ider  his  breast  one  end  of  his  pule,  which  Washington 
i  sianiiv  seizing,  drew  himself  within  reach  of  the  raft,  and 
i  immediately  sprung  upon  it.  At  that  instant  it  broke  asunder 
rind  Paddy  Frazier  was  in  a  moment  under  one  ot  its  logs 
MI  the  water.  The  impulse  of  the  stream,  however,  soon 
Moved  the  log  from  above  him,  and  lie  arose  to  the  surface  ; 
but  unable  to  stem  the  currenl  with  the  same  strength  that 

iYiishington  had  ojterled,  it  was  fa.st  driving  him  away,  when 
ins  heroic  companion,  forsaking  the  log  on  which  he  iloated, 
.-prang  --li'ter  him,  widi  his  pole  in  his  hand.  He  fortunately 
"ii'L'h!  him  just  as  me  current  was  carrying  him  under  the 

dge  of  a  large  sheet  of  ice  that  jutted  out  from  a  point  in 
i'ie  island.  Here:  ho  held  him  upon  the  surface,  by  the  as- 

istanco  of  his    pole,  while    he  broke    away  the   edge  of  the 

••e  until  it  became  thick  and  strong  enough  to  bear  his  weight. 
:'y  an  astonishing  effort  of  activity  he  then  placed  himself 
••n  it,  and  asM.-ted  Paddy  to  follow.  In  a  moment  more  they 
•.vert;  both  on  the  Island, 

"  \\  e  are  safe,  now,  thank  (Jod  !"  cried  Paddy,  as  soon  as 

ie  (Mine  in  contact  uith  the  solid  earth.      "  1  never  got  such 

i  cold   dip  in   my  life  before.      But  I  hope  sir,  1    did'nt  hint 

,IIM  |i\-  slriknio-  the  pole  under  vonr  hre.i«t." 


208  THE    W 

"  Thank  God,"  indco'-',  for  c-uch  an  esrnpe  !"  said  A'- 
ington,"  it  has  been  truly  miraculous  ,  !;;-d  \ve  ;ys!~?ed  drivi"? 
upon   thai  ice,  \ve  ;•':• 

breast,  there  is  no  injury  done.  The1  stroke  hnvt  me  a  lit''- 
at  the  time,  br.t  I  feel  nothing  of  it  MOV/.  But  1  am  gbu!  ihru 
you  have  kept  your  senst  -  so  ",  •'  II.  [expected  that  you  would 
have  altog  ;  yon 

have  really  ^  stout 

"  Not  so  stout  as  y<   i,  sir,"  replie  !  Paddy,  ••  :< 
gone  hut  one  dipping;   h-:d    '  ::t;   two,  3 

think  it  would  now  have  been  as  eoM  as  the  ice  we  havejust 
left.  But  our  difficulties  are  now  over,  and  I  expect  we 
shall  be  comforl  '  ie  in  a  couple  ot 

hours." 

"  Then  Ictus  walk  swiftly,"  said  V\rn?';i;^(on,  who  indeed 
longed  much  to  be  there.  4i  I3ri  k  ex-'Tci-e  will  keep  us  from 
freezing,  in  sniio  of  our  wetn^s-.'' 

They  accordingly  hastei  ;ards,  nnd  found  no  c;-:- 

eiilty  in  getting  off  the  it-h:]-*;,  as,  -tern  side,  it  ap 

proached  very  near  the  land,  from  which  it  w.1-  then  only 
separated  by  a  narrow  and  sircn<r  bridge  of  ice. 

As  they  walked  fast,  and  as  !';:;ddy  knew  the  best  and 
nearest  road,  they  were  seated  at  his  Cither's  lire-side  in  a 
shorter  time  than  he  had  predict  d.  Refreshments,  and  a 
change  of  raiment  for  each,  were  soon  prr-duced  ;  and  Wash 
ington,  havino-  ascc'Jtuined  that  I  'Mtained  in  tho 
park  which  had  been  .-ecurcly  fastened  to  .his  shoulders,  IUK! 
suffered  no  tin  mage,  felt  hitnseii',  after  the  dangers  and  diffi 
culties  he  i.  i  "n<.X'p"one.  rv>re  ihan  usually  disposed  to  er.- 
joy — thankfully  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of  being  under  the 
same  roof,  and  under  the  presence  of  the  sweet  mistress  oi 
his  affections.  He  had  tvcn  the  satisfaction  to  hear  her  ex 
press  her  fervent  gratitude  ;o  r-ea.ven  <v>r  his  escape  from  J'H' 
perils  that  h?d  surrounded  liii:...  ;  ami  he  could  not  help  bless 
ing  her  in  hi-i  he:.;-!,  lor  hor  sympalhy  ?:?d  kindness,  an- 
congratulating  himself  for  having  excited  them  in  a  bosom  ;;• 
pure,  so  intelligent,  so  tender,  and  so  [ovely, 

"  Ah!"  thought  he.  this  indeed  is  happiness  worih  havi:i!.- 
M'ffered  something  ior.  Surely  she  must  feel  for  my  welfair 
nn  interest  warmfr  than  mere  frienHship  ronld  inspire,  uh^r 


s  "  has  so  little  hesitation  in  expressing  it.  I!',  indeed,  she 
u  Te  the  child  of  artiiiri;,!  cultivation,  1  mi.?h'  !;avc  some 
;•  ason  to  district  .  -erity  nl'  'his  manifestation  of  her 

lathy  ;<»r  nn  :  i'  nature, 

•f\  .d    n|'  m!ih.  ;UH!   1    mi  "  '  that  she  feels    -li!.  pc: 

•':.--•••.       U  nil  e\  i    iiulnls/e  the 

re,  IT 

: 

•  I  aenu!  and 
r-fcui  ernment.  5?  and  freedom  from 

embarrassment,  v.  ;  expresses  an 

intetest  i'i  our  concerns,  are  cMU-n  fondly  mistaken  tor  m;ir|.:s 
r  ••:•---'••;!.  \vli  •  an  friendship 

•  <  os.ir  h"t'r!s, 
,  oHen  deceive 
oiily  increases 

e  !iim- 
•him, 

;-s  to  1  ;.-''  they  •  •'•iiiier  desciip- 

•  •"::.  !: •    '. '  •  ither  did    !-e  !m.v:k 

:!;:•(••!":!;    the  "  formed,  if  nol  a*    t!;is   | 

in"hi':ir  ;i  iui  n  »r   her,  so 

'hat  he  vohm'arily  deprived  hii\'-'f!f  oi'  tiie  only  means  he 
i'0i  !-!  '  ;  ;i"r  IUTS.  iv.it  !H'  ac'.-'d  so  from  mo- 

•ivcs  ol    delii"  \v ish  \n  make 

his  public  -  •     •        Meet  of  hi* 

.itK'.niio!!  ;  '    it  so    (>(' 

h\<  sclkili 

Tiie  nr\!  fi'iy  this  resolution  rm  '  \vih  a  trial  of  n>  strength 
and  firmness,  'o  which,  had  it  no!  i>"e;i  formed  in  such  a 
mind  as  ^Vasllirl^Iton's,  it  must  have  yielded. 

The  d;iy.  thon<'h  cvld,  \v>  r-o" -id^rrihlv  more  cnlm  and 
s"!'!'-d  ii'^n  and '-'.her  tlr-'  i  .v!  ti>!'  sr.ine  \\~ec  !<>  preceded  it; 
v  'ic'i.  s!:;;r'.'v  ;;i';er  brf>:ik!'-ist,  thf  !  e!.>ved  «:f  i:i-  son!  invited 
hi'-i  '»  '•>'-(•  •>  \v;'li..  Ves,  reader — tr,is  \v::s  tcmutatidn  ! 
M:i!'i:i  it;\  !!'•;;  h"  i  'u  \vdk  in  ci -(i) p.-.ii v  \viih  her  to  Al.iunip- 
[»a's.  i!'.\v  did  hi--  !""ivi  i-eat  at  the  id"a  !  I  iid  he  r.'i'i.i:-e  ? 
?N<P — he  cniild  not.  f'ut  to  keep  his  resolution  of  not  dis- 
tii'-hlriiT  hrir  wi'h  )i;«  p-5<^!on.  if  i'  sbiieU  lip  in  the  U'T". 


210  THE     WILDKRNES3. 

disagreeable  to  her,  he  was  determined;  and  he  had  fortitude 
tiiou-rli  to  withstand  any  temptation  to  do  -it  present,  what  he 
wa*  c'>:isi;.i  »us  could  with  more  proprie.v  be  done  at  another 
period. 

'•  Sir,''  said  she,  as  lhe\  walked  alone,  "  tin;  iniii:u:  <  ' 
we  are  '/oii;'>'  to  vi.-il,  iuio  Crom  my  infancy,  been  one  ol'  tnv 
most  disinterested  friends  and  greatest  favorites.  She  is  At 
tached  to  the  ciuse  of  your  nntion,  and  when  she  heard  of 
yo'.n  business  at  th.e  Logvstown,  and  -it  LeBceuf,  f.\\e  felt  a 
little  mortified  that  you  did  not  visit  her  on  your  way  to 
tho.-e  places.  She  has  conversed  with  me  .several  times 
about  you.  and  desired  me.  as  soon  as  you  should  return,  to 
accompany  you  to  her  residence.  I  promised  1  should.  ;\i*d 
I  now  ijo  with  vou  in  eon-enueuce  of  mv  word.  As  I  be 
lieve  you  do  not  speak  Indian,  J  will,  if  you  have  no  objec 
tion,  be  your  i:;i 

'•  Objection  to  vour  heir,,:  my  interpreter!  Miss  Fr-r/iev. 
My  delight  will — but  pardon  me.  1  must  restrain  the  expres 
sion  of  my  feelings — I.  do  not,  indeed,  speak  Indian,  and 
shall,  of  course,  be  glad  of  your  assistance.  As  to  l!d-;  queen, 
your  brother  lias  given  me  an  account  of  her  partiality  for  our 
own  cause  ;  and  1  should  think  myself  deficient  in  my  duty, 
if  T  did  not  call  upon  her  to  pay  her  my  respects,  and  con 
firm  her  favorable  sentiments  towards  us;  for  1  fe-ar  we  shall 
soon  require  as  many  friends  in  this  quarter,  as  it  is  in  our 
power  to  make.-" 

•'  1  hope,''  said  Matia,  "  that  your  people  will  not  push 
matters  to  extremity,  for  war  is  a  shocking  calamity  ;  and  1 
trust  ;h'e  Indians  will  be  more  guarded  for  the  future,  not  to 
provoke  your  people,  since  they  see  you  are  about  to  take  it 
up  seriously.  Indeed,  Mr.  Washington,  if  the  French  had 
onlv  let  them  alone,  half  the  excesses  they  committed  last 
summer  would  not  have  taken  place.'' 

"  We  blame  not  the  Indians,"  observed  Washington,  "so 
much  as  the  French.  The  designs  of  the  latter  are  not  per 
ceived  by  the  poor  deluded  savages.  It  is  their  schemes  of 
political  ambition  and  aggrandizement,  which  will  drive  us 
into  war.  Oh,  .Maria!  ere  the  nations  draw  the  sv,  ord,  I 
wish  you  were  safe  out  of  this  Wilderness." 

••  \nd  whv  do   von    wi-h   so?"   observed    Maria,  affecting 


THK     WILDERNESS.  211 

a  iono  u(  simple  surprise.     "  Here  live  my  parents,  and   to 
n::i   away  i'roin  them,  you  could  not  supno.se  either   pardon 
able." 

wish   of  my  heart,"   returned 

"\ .  a-  •    too  without  having  any  rational   01 

exeu  mnils  on  which  io  explain  it.     'i'ne  time   mny 

•  — but  pauion  me,  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  my  nnti- 

MIS.      ^  ou  ai'':lit   not  n   ngreeable — and,  alas! 

:  iay  never  be  i\:a!>/ed !:' 

'•  1  do  not  wish  to  inquire  into  any  of  your  views,  whether 
persona]  or  political,  that  you  may  desiie  to  conceal,''  ob- 
«>-rved  Mark.  »  Hut  that  they  are  all  rational,  and  not  only 
excusable,  but  l^uiaMe,  I  have  confidence  enough  in  your 
lorn  and  iiHejjTity,  to  believe  without  any  explanation. 
JS  one,  therefore,  is  necessary.  I>ut  yonder  is  the  queen's 
vi.'sidence.  ?-l\i>.  will,  1  expect,  be  \vuiiin.<r  our  arrival.'' 

Snanno.ui    majesty    received    V>'ashir,<)'tori    very   gra- 
i   ousiy,  although  she   jrave    him  a  sliglit.  reprimand   for  not 

•  -iMiii);    her,  a?   he    had    formerly   passed   .-o    nesr   her.  re:-i- 

l    MlCC. 

••  iiut  brotlier,"  said  she  with  a  smile,  "1  suppose;  you 
loiiffht  a  woman's  friendship  of  very  little  consequence  to 
our  nation." 

\\ 'ashiniitoii  assured  her  thai,  he  had  a  hii>'h  respect  for  lu  r 
chaiactcr,  and    a   sincere  desire  to  cultivate  her  <n>od  will   on 

rountn  iiii.'n. 

••  \Vhen    i   ii.'fore    passed   this    way,''   said   he,   •'  1  did   no! 
know  that   y«»ur  \\ij\vam  u  as  so  near  to  me;    hesidi:s,  I  had 

•  ot  tiien,  as  I  jiow  iiave.  an  interpreif'r  10  enable  me  to   con- 
•.  erse    witii    you.      But    as    a   proof   of   mv    regard,    1    hope, 
mother,  that   you  will  accept  of  some  presents    1   shall   send 

on,  as  soon  as  my  bausr 'Ji'e,  which  I  expect  dailv,  shall  ar- 
iiveat  Mr.  [Brazier's.  In  the  meantime,  receive  these  )e\\- 
i  niL's,  in  token  of  my  personal  regard,  and  this  string  of 
vampiim,  as  a  cement  to  the  amity  between  you  and  mv 
nulion. 

The   (|ii('i'ii.  on  her    part,  presented    him  willi  a  wampum, 
'hanked  him  lor  ihe  iim;>  and  the  presc-nts  he  had  promised, 
md  assured  him  that   she    had    always    felt  a  \wj\\  regard  fi 
ios  couutrvmen  ;    and  lhat.on  his  account,  lhat  regard  should 


2  I  2  I  HE     WILDERNESS, 

for  the  limn  to  come,  he  still  higher.  Washington  took  his 
leave,  and  returned  to  Frazier's  with  Maria,  much  pleased 
with  ihe  resuh  of  his  visit. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

How  dear  is  the  heart- warming  throb  of  delimit, 
When  liter  ionc  .-,o;.sons  oi  absence  and  pain. 

The  maid  ho  ai!oiv.>  greets  the  ii:M<l  lover's  si] 
An'l  r'"-f  '  clasps  her  a; 

.'•  'I  VF.I.  '.,J:f:UR. 

WHKN  they  were  about  midway  on.  their  ro;ul  towards 
Frazier's,  they  perceived  a  company  of  apparently  thirty 
or  forty  men,  and  as  many  more  horses  laden  with  baggage, 
winding  slowly  down  the  bank  of  the  river.  Washington 
immediately  conjectured  them  to  be  a  second  p-.irty  which 
he  had  heard  the  Ohio  coinp  my  contemplated  sending  this 
season,  to  make  another  attemnt  to  take  possession  of  their 
territon*.  '1'here  was,  at  ica^l.  no  doubt  of  their  bein.of  Enjj- 
lish,  and  Maria,  and  he,  somewhat  quickened  their  pace  to 
approach  them,  which  they  perceived  they  could  '•'oon  do, 
as  tiie  road  on  which  the  strangers  travelled,  joined  tbeir's 
at  no  crre'it  distance  before  them. 

When  .Maria  hvui  advanceii  ^o  near  as  !o  bp.  able  to  dismu'1- 
uish  their  persons,  she  suddenly  stopped,  and,  by  her  chan^..- 
of  color,  betraved  considerable  emoiion  of  mini!.  She  how 
ever,  recovered  instamiv.  and  althon^li  Washington  had 
no:iccd  her  coni'iision,  lie  did  not  consider  it  any  thing  extra 
ordinary,  as  he  ascribed  it  to  the  timidity  naturrd  to  so 
secluded  a  female,  whpn  approaching  to  s<>  largn-  a  company 
of  strangers. 


THE     VVU.DEK\t:ss.  213 

1  Fear  nothing,  Miss  Frazier,  "  said  lie  —  "  these  are  friends, 

\\  ill  offer  us  ro  injury.  ?' 

lil  fear  nothir.T  said  she,  "  I  know   that   they  are  friends, 

tint  -  "  >!enlv  held  hoi-  peace  —  as  at  that 

••-,v  that,  th  o  appeared  to  act  ns  the 

ie:   !<  company  ii:\d  :  them,  for  ho  had  turn- 

eci  his   horse,  nnd  was  ruling  swiiiiy  through  the  brush  tn- 

u-    • 

She  asf.-i.uned  all  her  self-command,  and  said  in  alow  voice 
to  Washington  —  "This  is  Mr.  Adderly,  who  commanded 
tin-  Ohio  expedition  last  year.  lam  <rlad  that  he  has  arrived 
bi  :<M-C  you  left  us,  «o  that  you  may  become  acquainted  with 
e:  •  h  o'her.  '' 

••  !  am  yhui  of  it  too,  for  1  have  heard  much  in  his  praise.'* 

(I   V-  a-hii: 

iiy  this  time   (.'harlos  had   approached,  and  alighted  from 

horse,    and     Alan;',     with    jjreat    eifort.     assuming    the 

aj  pearance  of  an    unrestrained    but   composed  cordiality  of 

rn  .nner.  shook  him  bv  the  hand  and   welcomed  him.     She 


•'  is    n-y    IViet'd  —  j\Ir.     Vv'i'shington, 

IV'  '111      \  i»(ri|]!-i.  '' 

(  liarh-^,  with  an  involuntary  coldness  in  his  manner  salu- 
tf-d  \\'::s!iinifton,  and  drily  observed  —  "that  lie  should  always 
br  frlad  to  meet  \\\\\\  any  friend  of  Miss  Fia/.ier.  " 

\\  a.-hin";ton's  niann<  -r,  how(.vver.  in  a  moment  dispelled 
th's  cnl;:-  -  •  sincerity  and  even  warmth,  lie 


"  A-ir.  Adderly  !  1  aw  really  rejoiced  to  me«'t  with  you,  for, 
lv  both  public  and  privaio  report,  I  have  had  the1  means  of 
a  cerbi.ihiiifj  the  wor:h  of  your  character;  and  1  trust  that, 
n  -  the.  affairs  of  the  west  have  attracted  the  attention  o!  us 
)•  t'i,  wo  will  bf  able  to  render  each  o'.lier  assistance  in  jiro- 
t  •!!••"-  it  from  in!'  enemv,  "Mid  promoiin'"  the  vi(-\vs  of  our 
c  iintrv  in  ''.'ief-'inif  i'^  se'.th  ment.  " 

"Mr.  \\':'shii-;M-)ii  !  '*  rep'i"(l  (  'hr-rles.  '•  t'lc:  ((-stiinony  of 
t'  e  public  voice  in  your  Javor.  since  you  :-n  irallanlly  ciubark- 
f  in  the  ardoons  mission  toj,e  i>;cuf,  is  too  flntterin^  for  me 
l'  repeat  in  your  presence,  but  is  in  reality,  I  believe,  still 
(?  ;ort  of  what  you  deserve.  I  shall,  indeed,  lejoice  in  your 


214  'I  III.     Wll.DKKNKSS, 

friendship!  ami  now,  .Miss  Frazier,  may  i  a.->k  how  it  !ia-; 
fared  with  you — ami — and — your  father's  family  since  {  saw 
yon.  1  mean — [  mean — n<>  mailer, "  .said  lie,  with  a  smile, 
for  he  percoi ved  ins  own  emotion,  and  hastilv  threw  it  oil'. 
"How  '-n  —  Nancy — and  Paddy,  and 

J)oclor  j\iiahre 

•'  :\on<;  ol'  us  have  nict.  with  any  serious  accident  ;  although 
I  mu>t.  confess  we  passed  the  la:-*!,  summer  in  ureal  alarm 
and  anxiety  on  account  of  the  Indian  outrage*  that  were  com 
mitted  on  the  border-settlers. 

"  Bui  I  trust  that  your  family  has   nothing  to  fear,"   ob 
served  Charles:   '-is  not  Tonnaleuka  still  your  friend  '" 

"  Sti-l  ,.s  llnnlv  as  ever,  "  ,sho  replied  :  '•  but  even  he,  yon 
know,  cannot  always  control  the  nnruiv  dispositions  of  re- 
;:en.  '' 

"  ilajipy  would  it  ho  for  this  region  if  he  could  !  "   ohs'-r- 

\'f(\    V\  ashington.      ';  Tiie   calamities    our    borders    suffered 

•:miner   \vouid  not  then  have  stained  its   annals.      Bui, 

Mr.  Aiiderly,  nr-iy  I  a-k.,  whr.t  is  the   ohjecl  of  tiiis   pn.'sent 

fn'erprise  of  which,  I  presume,   you  are  the  leader?" 

"1  am,  indeed,  intrusted  with  us  management,"  replied 
Charles;  for  notwithstanding  my  former  misfortunes,  the 
Ohio  company  have  ventured  airain  to  place  confidence  in  me. 
They  supposed,  I  helieve,  thai  Iliad  learned  wisdom  hy  ex 
perience  ,  but  i  confess.  Mr.  Washington,  that  if  1  did  not 
know  ihat  the  hostile  Indians  are  retired  to  their  winter 
ah  ides,  I  should  feel  almost  as  awkwardly  fixed  with  ihe 
handful  of  men,  I  now  have,  as  I  did  last  year." 

"The  company  ought  to  have  furnished  you  with  n  torce 
adequate  for  the  designs  they  contemplate,"  returned  Wash 
ington.  '-What  number  of  men  have  you  '" 

"  I  have  about  forty,  pretty  well  furnished  with  arms  and 
stores,  it  is  true:  hut  had  it  not  been  that  I  calculated  when 
I  started,  upon  (he  season  being  favorable  for  our  operations, 
by  keeping  the  great  force  of  our  enemies  at  a  distance,  1 
acknowledge,  I  should  n  it  have  been  wining  to  venture  here 
with  fewer  than  ten  times  as  many.  As  to  our  intentions, 
they  are  pretty  much  the  same  as  they  were  last  year — 
namely,  to  take  possession  of  the  country  in  the  name  of 
his  Britannic  Majesty,  and  on  behalf  of  his  good  cousins 
a iid  loving  subjects,  the  Ohio  Company. 


i  UK     W1LUKRNESS.  215 

••  \  on  intend,  of  cour.-e,  to  fortify  yourselves?"  replied, 
"Washington. 

'•Of  course,"  returned  Charles;  '-and  if  we  can  only 
i  a  ire  t'j  elFect  that  before  the  French  or  Indians  attack  us, 
elieve  we  shall  do  pretty  well;  otherwise  our  success 
nvu-  he  the  counterpart  of  last  year's.  But  we  have  daring 
he  -is  and  stoui  hands,  low  as  they  are,  and  we  will  do  our 
be-;,  and  providence  may  favor  us." 

••I  sincerely  pray  that  it  may,"  said  Washininon.  ,' But 
coi.ld  not  the  company  have  raised  a  stronger  force  for  the 
occ  is  ion  ?  " 

••  .No,  sir.  it.  was  with  difficulty  we  could  collect  the  folio  w - 
<jr.-  we  have.  Few.  are  at  present  willing  to  embark  person- 
ii!  a  warfare  a<jainst  barbarous  and  hostile  savages,  who 
treat  their  prisoners  with  such  horrible  cruelly  ;  anil  had  it 
no  been  supposed  that  your  mission  w.as  likely  to  have  the 
ell  ct  of  preventing1  opposition  to  our  measures,  at  least  Irom 
the  French,  who  were  at  the  root  of  the  disaster  of  last  sea- 
«on,  we  could  not  have  mustered  our  present  nui.uber.  '' 

••  Have  you  concluded  where  to  build  your  fort.'"  asked 
\\  ashinylon. 

••.Noi  absolutely,'1  replied  Charles;  "1  am  at  this  time 
let1  mii'-h  to  my  own  discretion  in  the  matter — last  year  the 
HT"Uiid  was  prescribed  to  me.  If  you  have  examined  the 
country,  .Mr.  Washington,  I  should  be  ulad  to  have  your  nil- 
vice  in  this  particui;.:'." 

-•For  various  reasons,"  replied  Washington,  "I  would 
prefer  the  forks  at  Shanapins  to  the  height  at  Chartier'f 
or-ek,  where  you  made  your  former  attempt.  But  this  is 
too  military  a  subject  of  conversation  to  be  relished  by  .Miss 
F:  i/icr.  If  you  have  no  objection,  therefore,  to  postpone  it, 
1  shall,  on  a  more?  convenient  occasion,  give  you.  at,  lull 
length,  my  reasons  for  this  opinion." 

••I  was  myself  hcirinninir  to  think,"  said  Charles,  "that 
w  '  Lad  unfortunately  fallen  upon  a  subject  that  could  not 
ai'ord  much  entertainment  to  Miss  Fra/.ier.  1  then-lore  ap- 
p;  )\fe  of  your  hint;  but  shall  be  ulad  to  hear  you  upon  this 
matter  at  any  oilier  time  tiiat  may  suit  you. 

"(Tenth-men,"  observed  Maria,  "a  useful  topic  of  discourse 
<••  n  never  be  disagreeable  to  me;  and  1  be;/  you  not  to 
'•::aiii>e  vour  subject  on  mv  account 


~lb  THK     U ll.DERXESS. 

"  It  would  be  more  becoming-  at  present,"  said  Washing 
ton,  "to  converse  on  matters  on  which  you  can  join  us; 
and  you  cannot  but  suppose  that  we  led  the  impropriety  of 
two  young  men  engrossing  to  themselves  the  convex, if  >p 
when  then.1  is  a  l::(iy  pn; 

•'  When  your  •.•:!  suppose  that  their  gallantry  may 

be  doubted,"  returned  Maria,  "  they  may,  with  pn-prictx 
enough,  b'.:  anxious  to  show  it  oi!'  by  their  pointed  politeness 
to  our  :-ex.  But,  in  the  present  instnnce,  this  anxiety  is  un 
necessary,  for  1  do  not  harbor  the  •-  Lispicion  :  s;ainst 
either  of  you  in  I!PC- 

'•  Your  generosity  then  (jives  us  credit."  said  Washing 
ton,  "  for  what  in  reality  we  did  not  lately  appear  to  posses--; 
and  it  would  be  the  heiir'it  of  injustice  to  you  if  in  return  lor 
such  generosity  \ve  should  exclude  you  from  our  conversa 
tion —  nay.  k-t  me  add.  Miss  Frazier,  it  would  be  cruelty  to 
ourselves." 

"  1  perceive,"  replied  Maria,"  that  you  now  want  to  make 
up  for  your  supposed   deficiency   in    politeness  ;   but    sinco 
you  are  ,'rallan.t  <y'>::kjmei ',  L-.rni  this  is  the  course  o 
1  must  submit.      ~S  (  Ti  may,  tin  u   a   full  stream 

of  compliment.     1  v.'hi  listen  '.•>  you."' 

"  \ou  will  also  forgive  us,  i  trust,  Miss  Frazier,"  replied 
Washington,  "  if  in  wishing  to  pay  that  respect  which  we 
owe  to  your  sex,  we  express  ourselves  so  that  you  may 
wrongfully  imagine  us  insincere;  I  protest,  on  my  own  part, 
and  I  think  1  may  with  safety  say,  on  the  part  of  Mi.  Ad- 
derly.  that  we  have  neither  uttered,  nor  intend  to  utter,  fiuj 
thing  concerning  you  but  with  sincerity.  Compliment  1 
heo;  leave  to  remind  you  is  often  truth  •  n?v.  to  deny  it,  is 
sometimes  to  deny  justice.'' 

"And  Miss  Frazier,  will  surely  admit."  observed  (,'harles. 
"  that  in  the  pre-ent.  instance,  we  have,  offered  her  no  more 
civility  than  bolh  as  a  friend  and  a  female  she  had  a  right  to 
expect/' 

At  this  moment  they  came  up  \vith  the  Ohio  Company's 
parly  :,t  the  junction  of  the  roads,  and  Charles  had  to  t  x- 
press  the  last  words  of  his  remark  in  rather  an  under  voice. 
He  had  scarcely  finished  it,  when  Peter  M'Fall  approached 
Maria  with  his  hat  off,  and  making  a  low,  but  very  respect 
ful  bow,  addresed  her: 


THE     WILDERNESS.  217 

1  Vo\v.  by  the  powers  !  mis'resr?,  hut  I  am  triad  to  see  you 
li\;:ii>'  aiiain;  lor  1  thou-yht  Hi:'  savages  had  killed  every  soul 
of  :  Christian  in  the  \\  ilderness." 

••\Vr  are  nor  all  killed  yet,  YOU  perceive,  Peter,"  .-tie,  re- 
pin ',1.  '•  But  you  are  welcome  had;  to  the  woods,  and  1  am 
really  triad  to  see  you  look;:;';-  so  well." 

-•  i;Ookit;;r  well,"  returned  Peter,  raising  his  frame  to  an 
e\\  -I  attitude,  and  putting  on  what  lie  supposed  to  he  one  of 
h\>  most  ;\ liveable  looks.  "Ay,  hy  inv  mv  troth,  and  Pe 
ter  M'Fali  was  horn  to  look  well.  JSure,  didn't  mv  own 
mother  tell  me  so  when  1  was  no  binder  than  your  knee, 
in;  \  i'  plase  your  ladyship." 

••  I  mean  that  you  look  healthy,  Peter,"  said  Maria. 

••  iiealthv,"  replied  Peter,  somewhat  disappointed.  "And 
i^  dim  nil!  iiut  I)Y  mv  so\v!.  I  think  Dr.  Killbreath  would 
he  a  hotter  judue  of  that,  than  vour  ladyship.  It  would  he 
a  devilishly  diiicrent  matter  as  to  mv  looking  well.  But 
does  Your  ladvship  know  whether  the  doctor  he  livinir,  or 
ro;sted  hv  the  Indians  yet?" 

••  tie  is  s'iil  livinor  -and  well,"  replied  .Maria.  ';and  I  he- 
lie /e  is  just  now  to  he  found  at  no  <jrcat  distance." 

••  Viien,  hy  tiie  holy  piper  !  1  suppose1  he's  at  our  father's 
house — I  must  run  to  see  him;"  exclaimed  Peter, — "  Mas- 
te  ,  it  is  oniv  to  o'tve  me  leave  for  a  minute  or  two,  that  I 
may  ;rct  on  before  these  I.I/Y  lurf  drivers,  and  shake  the  doc 
tor's  ould  hone  for  him — master,  just  say  the  word  now,  and 
If  me  oil- — a  wink  will  do  it." 

"There  is  do  use  for  such  haste,"  said  Charles,  "you 
w  il  sec  the  doctor  presently." 

"Oeh  !  now  just  jrive  me  the  wink,  master,"  persisted  Pe 
te  •.  "my  heels  are  so  itchv  to  run,  and  my  hand  so  itchy 
te  shake  the  doctor's  list  for  him,  that,  by  my  faith  !  the  de 
vil  a  step  ran  Peter  wait  longer  on  the  company,  that  may 
ci  i\vl  alter  me  through  the  woods  as  slow  as  a  hangman's 
march,  if  thev  please  !'' 

Peter  was  about  starting  olF  at,  full  speed,  for  he  percei- 
v  d,  or  what  to  him  was  the  same  thiuo-,  he  imagined  he, 
perceived  an  approving  glance  twinkle  in  Charles's  eye — 
when  he  received  a  heaw  thump  upon  th.p  shoulder,  which 
n  :ide  him  exclaim — 


?.  18  THE      \\ll.l)  LRM.&3. 

'•Blood  and  thunder !  who's  thin.'"'  ;md  turning  round, 
he  seized  !  )r.  N  illbreatli  in  Ins  ;•  rins. 

••}]y  the  holy  Hndirei  1  doctor"  h;-  cried,  lif'tintr  him  fair 
ly  otf  ih':  <!Touij'.u  :ind  swinging  him  round  him  \vitli  urc;:' 
exultation — "  bul  i  s  >ur  ould  bones  yet! 

The  savages,  bad  luck  ' 
of  you  y  .  i  y  sov\  i. 

a  iooi  as  to  come  hue 

made  YOU  into  a  cinder  lon^f  ;':/<>;  for,  i  knew,  if  fhev  took 
you  again,  you  wouldn't  have  Peter  AIcFali  to  siand  at  your 
back,  and  whisk  you  thromrii  a  Kennel  like  a  lialf-drowncd 
cat.  on;  of  ih;--iv  reach..  A.rrah,  doct<  '  i  Svi-nan  iic 

praised!   you  havf  iioh  aiiil  blooci  i>n  vou  \"ct!:' 

When  Peter  had  finished  this  rhapsody,  he  :viievc<!  tin 
doetor  from  his  ;.>rasj>.  and  i-.hcfd  iiitn  i'sruin  on  i';'-  e;>.rtii. 

"Faith.  Priori''  cri-'d  Kiiibreath,  whni  he  had  recover 
ed  wind  (.'uon^'ii  to  sinicuiate — "the  Indians  ^\-oiiid  have 
spared  me  to  little  purpose  if  you  had  kc\>\  me  much  longer 
squee/ed  up  in  those  horrible  clutches  of  \  ours.  It  would 
have  been  only  excrhangin-i  burned  boiies  for  broken  OIP.^ 
— or  beinir  calcined  to  :i  cinder,  for  beina'  cruslied  to  a 
mummy !" 

"  ^  by,  sure  now,  doctor."  returned  Peter  sympathizinjf- 
ly,  "I  didn't  hurt  your  ould  carcass.  Theflevil  take  me,  it' an 
Irishman  at  the  lair  of  old  \\  icklo\v  would  have  thought 
any  thing  of  such  a  hug." 

••  Hui_r!"  cried  t]ic  doctor,  ruiiln'n^  and  twisting  his  sides, 
which  still  ached  from  the  pressure  of  Peter's  grasp;  •'  why 
the  husi"  of  a  bear  would  lie  but  a  trill e  to  such  squeezing.  I 
would  as  soon  be  crushed  in  a  eider  press." 

"  Och  !  now.  doctor,  be  asv,  and  give  me  your  list  fur 
ould  times,"  cried  Peter;  "never  mind  the  squeezing;  it 
was  onlv  an  Irish  welcome  for  your  Pennsylvany  boiie?. 
Och!  botheration  to  ii.  if  1  would  give  the  toss  of  a  ha'pen 
ny  lor  these  cold  dish-water  meetinjrs  between  ould  friends, 
tiial  scarcelv  touch  the  skin  of  each  other's  lingers."  So 
sayino-,  he  ga.ve  the  doctor's  hand  such  a  squeeze  as  made 
him  roar  out,  and  absolutely  brought  tears  to  his  eves. 

"By  the  great  Colomb  !"  continued  Peter,  somewhat  sor- 
rv  for  Ins  r.i'-hnpss,  "but  I  thought,  doctor,  that  vou  were 


THE     WILDERNESS.  219 

le  of  better  stuff.  I  really  believe  I  have  splintered  your 
•  •kles  for  yon.  Arrah.m>w!  if  you  would  live  more  op 
I  •  :tto<  .-•  instead  of  appi' •.-•.  vou  would  have  stouter  bones, 
de  r  doctor.  But  toll  me  no\v,  how  is  your  sweetheart,  the 
pi  tty.  p'ump.  black-eved  lass  of  the  woods  hero,  that  you 
U3  ci  !<>  'oast  at  vour  ov.-'er  supper;?  in  Philadelphia?" 

''Ilu^Ii!"  cried  the  doctor,  in  an  under  voice.  "sa>  lio- 
thhinf,  dear  Peter,  sav  nothing  about  this  matter;  you'ii  see 
her  shortly,  but  be  mum.  I'll  tcil  yon  ;u;ain  all  about  it." 

Me  then  cari'/hl  Peter's  arm,  ami  ihev  set  off  together  for 
Frazier's  house.  wheve  the  whole  psirty  soon  arrived,  and 
Gilbert  ;\!id  jNeily  had  once  more  me  ]:le:is!ire.  of  which 
they  did  not  fail  to  inform  their  guests,  of  beholding  some 
of  the  blood  of  Mnujrhryffowjin  under  irieir  roof. 

Towards  thv;  evenino1  of  ;he  following  day,  Vanbraain 
arrived  \vith  A\'ashinir(on''s  ba<ji>atro,  and  th.e  rest  of  his  i'ol- 
lou'ers.  The  presenis  promised  to  the  Shannoah  queen 
were  u'lveii  over  to  the  care  of  Paddv  Frazier.  who  imino- 
diriteU  proceeded  to  her  residence,  and  delivered  them  to 
her  majesty  ;  and  Washinplon  prepared  to  leave  Maria  and 
the  \Vilderiiess,  which  was  now  to  him  the  dearest  spot  in 
th"  world,  the  next  morning,  liefore  he  set  otf,  however, 
C'i:iries  Adderly  had  proceeded  with  his  parly  to  take  pos- 
st  <sion  o!' the  t'orUs  at  Shanapins,  where  Washing'toii's  rea- 
X'uini:  had  coininctd  him  of  the  [iroprieiy  of  erecting  the 
contemplated  fort.  These  two  youn<v  hero(->  took  larewoll 
ol  eac-h  other,  improved  v.ilh  the  slroiio-est  ieelinys  of  mu- 
ti.  ,1  respect,  but  litlie  knowing  that  they  were  each  other's 
ri\als  in  a  master  on  which  each  fell,  at  that  time,  that  (in* 
\\  idle  life's  happiness  depended.  It  is  true,  thai  Charles, 
o-  rip'-etinji-  .Maria  and  Washington  together  in  the  wood*. 
a  we  ha\e  s(>en,  had  permitted  a  transient  suspicion  on  this 
subject  to  alarm  his  mind,  which  his  manner  had  almost 
b  traved:  bin  his  conlidence  in  her  fidelity,  on  a  moment's 
rrileciion,  reiurneil,  for  he  knew  she  had  once  loved  him. 
and  he  believed  what  the  prophet  had  told  him.  that  M'hom 
si.e  loved  once  she  would  lo\e  iorexcr;  and  this  confidence 
v.  a;-:  }:ill\'  confirmed  b\  ih'1  ease,  candor,  and  cordiality  of 
V.  ashinglon's  manner  of  addressing  him.  The  subsequent 
'  'tr>  "T'aiifit!  vvl'iich  he  h'  id  with  thi5- eminentlv  gifted  yonnn 


220  THK     WILDERNESS. 

man,  inspired  him  with  a  respect  tor  his  talents  and  judg 
ment  almost  approaching  to  reverence,  and  lie  resolved  to 
follow  his  advice  in  even  ihing  lie  hud  suggested  to  him  for 
the  management  of  his  present  enterp.1 

Jusl  before  Washington  set  off,  lie  seized  a   favorable    oc 
casion  for  a  short  private  interview  with  Maria. 

••  JJLISS  Frazier  !"  said  ho,  ••!  must  now  bid  you  farev, ;  !i 
tor  a.  time.  Permit  me,  before  I  depart,  to  present  you  with 
a  small  volume  of  poems,  one  of  whi"'i  is,  with  me,  next  to 
some  of  the  passages  of  your  admired  Thomson,  the  most 
favorite  piece  of  poetry  in  our  language.  This  copy  iias  lor 
manv  months  past  been  mv  constant  companion,  its  author 
was  one  who  was  o-reativ  enamored  of  tiiat  sylvan  seclusion 
which  you  here  enjoy  in  such  perfection.  He  was  also  one 
who  keenly  felt,  and  sweetly  described,  tho  tendei.-st  an>! 
sweetest  of  all  passions.  1  have  marked  with  a  j>eneil  tiio^c 
passages  of  my  favoriie  poem,  which  [  shaii  Oi'tcn  recall  10 
mind  when  at  a  distance  from  you  :  a'nd  oh!  may  I  request 
that,  lor  my  sake,  you  will  frequently  read  them.  They 
will  depict,  to  you  the  feelings  which,  until  I  see  you  ; 
will  strongly  agitate  this  bosom.  Farewell  !  and  may  iita- 
ven  protect  you  from  all  danger!  So  saying,  he  pressed  her 
hand  gently,  and  departed. 


I  HE    \VILDERNEbb.  221 


CHAPTER  XXlj 

Tins  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 
*  better  brook  tha.n  flourishing:  peopled  towns, 
Here  I  can  sit  alone  unseen  of  any, 
And  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes 
Tune  mv  distresses  and  record  my  \voes. 
Oh  !   thou  that  dost  inhabit  in  my  breast, 
Leave  not  the  mansion  tenantless; 
Lest  growing  ruiuous,  the  building  fall, 
And  leave  no  memory  of  what  it  was. 

SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  hook  which  Washington  left  with  our  heroine  was 
•<  handsomely  bound  copy  of  Shenstone's  Poems  ;  and  the 
passages  he  had  marked  for  her  attention  she  found  in  that 
most  tender  and  simple  of  all  poetical  effusions,  the  Pastoral 
Ballad.  The  reader,  1  trust,  will  have  no  objection  to  peruse 
them.  They  were  as  follows  : — 

-'  Now  I  know  what  it  is  to  have  strove 

With  tli«  torture  of  doubt  and  desire; 
What  it  is  to  admire  and  to  love, 

And  to  leave  her  we  love  and  admire." 

"•  When  forced  the  fair  nymph  to  forego, 

What  anguish  1  felt  at  my  heart  ! 
I  thought — but  it  might  not  !>"  so— 

'Tvvas  with  pain  that  she  saw  me  deparl. 
iShe  gazed  as  I  slowly  withdrew, 

My  path  I  could  scarcely  discern  ; 
So  sweetly  she  bade  me  adieu, 

I  thought  that  she  bade  me  return. 

"  The  pilgrim  that  journeys  all  day, 
To  visit  some  far  distant  shrine, 
If  lie  bear  but  a  relic  away. 

Is  happy,  nor  heard  to  repine. 
Thus  widely  removed  from  tiio  fair, 

Where  my  vows,  my  devotion,  I  owe, 
Soft  hope  is  the  rolie  I  bear, 

And  my  solace  wherever  I  go." 
19 


222  tilt;     U  II.DKK.Nf.-*. 

Mad  not  Maria  been  be  Core  convinced,  Crotn  the  conduct 
ol'  her  illustrious  visitor,  thai  lie  loved  her,  these  stanzas, 
combined  with  his  manner  of  bidding  her  C;ire\veil,  would 
lime  left  no  room  to  doubt  on  the  subject.  The  circum 
stance  n-fievrd  her.  She  respected,  she  esteemed,  she  al 
most  revered  tho-.e  talents  and  virtues  which  she  perceived 
that  he  possessed  in  such  an  eminent  decree  ;  but  love  was 
what  she  could  not  afford  him.  Another  object  engrossed 
all  her  passion  and  tenderness  exclusive]  v  and 'unalterably  . 
and  to  Washington — to  him,  whom  she  believed  to  be  pos- 
>essed  of  every  quality  that  could  ennoble  man.  and  whos^ 
warmest  affections,  she  doubted  not.  were  now  devoted  to 
her,  she  could  only  spare  ardent  friendship  and  heart-felt 
admiration.  Yes — she  could,  and  did  also,  yield  him  pity; 
for  loving  passionately  as  she  herself  did,  she  could  easily 
imagine  how  miserable  she  must  have  been,  had  she  loved 
in  vain.  Much,  therefore,  much  did  she  grieve  for  one  so 
worthy,  whom  she  knew  must  be  wretched  from  the  same 
cause. 

"How  rejoiced  I  should  be,"  she  would  say  to  herself, 
"if  this  excellent,  this  admirable  young  man,  could  place 
his  affections  on  some  one  who  had  affections  at  her  own 
disposal  to  give  him  in  return.  I  know,  alas  !  how  much 
the  happiness  of  life  depends  on  this;  and  if  ever  man  de 
served  happiness,  it  is  he.  But  he  is  now  gone  ;  and  ] 
trust  absence,  change  of  scene,  and  the  bustle  of  business, 
may  weaken  the  unfortunate  attachment  he  has  here  im 
bibed  ;  and  Providence,  I  hope,  will  throw  in  his  way  one 
worthy  of  him,  and  botli  capable  of  exciting  in  his  bosom 
the  tenderest  feelings  of  love,  and  of  returning  them.  Oh, 
Charles!  thou  object  of  my  first  and  only  love !  it  is  my 
study,  it  is  my  duty,  it  is  my  delight,  to  be  true  to  thee. 
Thou  art  the  chosen  of  my  heart — a  heart  that  never,  never 
will  choose  another." 

Charles  having  encamped  his  men  at  Shanapin's  town, 
and  marked  out  the  ground  for  the  fort,  returned  the  nex; 
day  to  visit  his  Maria. 

Sweet,  sweet  is  the  intercourse  between  two  young  and 
virtuous  lovers,  who  are  aware  of  possessing,  unchangeably 
and  entirelv.  each  other's  affections.  But  although  such 


IMF,     \V1LDKKNFSS.  22.1 

intercourse  be  sweet  to  them,  the  detail  of  the  conversation 
by  which  it  is  carried  on  is  seldom  so  to  others.  It  is  the 
presence  of  the  beloved  object,  the  thousand  nameless  charms 
\\liich  each  sees  in  the  other,  and  which  no  other  can  see, 
much  less  describe,  or  even  if  described,  could  feel,  far  more 
than  the  sentiments  or  language  which  they  utter,  that  con 
stitute  the  delight,  the  ecstacy  of  their  private  interviews, 
and  their  solitary  rambles. 

For  this  reason  I  will  retrain  from  relating  to  the  reader 
the  many  conversations  that  now  took  place  between  Charles 
A  elderly  and  his  Maria,  at  their  secret  and  confidential  meet 
ings.  There  was  one.  however,  which  I  shall  relate,  be 
cause  it  touched  upon  a  topic,  of  which  the  reader  may  re 
quire  some  explanation,  namely,  the  cause  of  that  nuptial 
ceremony,  for  which  Charles  so  ardently  sighed,  not  taking 
place,  although,  with  a  secret  view  to  its  accomplishment. 
he  had  brought  with  him,  as  chaplain  to  the  expedition,  ;' 
person  qualilied  for  its  performance. 

"  Whv  delay  mv  happiness,  mv  love  .'"'  said  he.  "  There 
is  now  no  obstacle  to  its  accomplishment  —  there  is  no 
reason  for  its  delay.  You  talk  of  my  father's  sanction. 
Tonnaleuka  has  infused  the  idea  into  your  mind  that  it  is 
necessary.  But  Maria,  believe  me,  it  is  not.  \Vhen  the 
\ows  are  once  uttered,  you  are  then  my  wife,  in  defiance  of 
human  power  or  opposition  !" 

"I  know,"  replied  Maria,  "that  by  the  institutions  of 
\  our  country,  your  father  could  not  dissolve  our  marriage, 
it  is  not  that  which  i  dread  ;  but  1  dread  the  displeasure  he 
would  manifest,  and  justly  too,  at  its  taking  place  without 
his  knowledge  and  consent.  No;  I  will  never  become  the 
wife,  of  any  man  who,  by  making  me  such,  will  displease 
I  is  relations." 

'•  Hut  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  my  father  would 
be  displeased,  at  least  if  he  knew  you  as  I  do,  I  am  persua 
ded  lie  would  not,  at  your  becoming  his  daughter." 

"  But,  Charles,"  said  she,  smiling,  "you  do  not  remember 
tiiat  he  does  not  know  me.'  or,  if  he  did,  how  are  you  sure 
that  he  would  estimate  me  as  highly  as  you  have  been  pleas 
ed  to  do  ?  No — be  might  look  upon  what  you  have  thought 
proper  to  call  rny  worth,  in  a  very  different  light;  and  in 


221  iUK     \\1LUERNKS3. 

place  of  being  aa  acceptable  daughter-in-law,  it  we  were  to 
marry  under  present  circumstances,  the  probability  is,  that 
I  should  be  considered  by  him  as  an  intruder  into  his  fam 
ily,  and  treated,  and  perhaps  deservedly  so,  as  such." 

"Believe  me,  Maria,"  he  returned,  "that  I  know  my 
father  well.  I  am  his  only  son  ;  and  he  has  ever  been  the 
kind  consulter  of  my  happiness.  AVhen  the  sacred  knot  is 
tied,  he  will  not  seek  to  dissolve  it.  not  so  much  because  he 
would  know  the  tiling  impossible,  as  because  he  would 
know  that  it  would  make  me  miserable,  permanently  and 
supremely  miserable  !" 

"  But,  suppose  even  this  indulgence."  she  replied,  "or 
rather,  this  forgiveness  on  his  part  to  take  place,  in  conse 
quence  of  paternal  tenderness,  even  after  you  had  acted  dis 
respectfully  towards  him,  by  marrying  without  his  know 
ledge.  Think  of  it,  Charles — would  not  so  much  goodness 
be  a  hijrh  aggravation  of  your  offence,  in  bein«f  jjuilty  oi 
such  disrespect  to  so  kind  a  father  .'  No.  Charles,  1  cannot 
bear,  I  will  not  consent,  that  you  should  act  so  unworthily, 
so  little  like  yourself."' 

"Ah!  too  rigid,  too  austere  girl !"  he  exclaimed ;  "you 
place  too  much  importance  upon  this  matter  of  my  father 
sanctioning  our  nuptials.  It  is  but  a  trilling  consideration." 

"  How,  Charles  !"  she  said,  interrupting  him ;  "oh  do  not 
let  me  hear  you  call  behaving  disrespectfully  to  your  father, 
and  such  a  father  as,  I  doubt  not,  yours  is,  a  trifling  consid 
eration.  Surely  your  good  sense  and  lilial  affection  have 
yielded,  in  this  instance,  to  your  wishes." 

"  Oh,  Maria  !  understand  me  before  you  condemn  me. 
I  respect.  1  honor  my  father,  as  much  as  ever  son  did  a 
parent.  But  surely,  in  comparison  to  spending,  perhaps, 
another  long  year  of  privation  from  the  bliss  of  calling  you 
my  own,  the  taking  of  this  step  without  his  knowledge,  un 
der  circumstances  so  difficult  to  procure  it,  if  it  be  at  all  an 
aberration  from  duty,  is  but  a  trifling  one.  O  consent,  my 
love  !  Depend  upon  my  assurance,  that  you  have  nothing 
to  fear  from  the  measure." 

"Were  1  to  be  so  weak  as  to  comply  with  your  wishes," 
said  she  "  it  might  indeed  happen  that  your  father  would 
not  be  absolutely  inexorable.  He  might  not  forever  cas' 


THK     WII.OKKNKSS.  'i'ift 

vi'ii  (i IF  from  his  alfections  for  our  fault.  But  still,  Charles, 
vi1  would  have  committed  a  fault.  We  would  have  given 
a  kind  and  lender  parent  cause  of  offence ;  which  would 
ever  afterwards  be,  at  least  to  me,  and  let  me  say,  1  helievc 
also  to  you,  a  source  of  uneasiness.  He  might  forgive  our 
error;  hut  I  am  convinced  that  we  ourselves  never  should 
forget  it.  O  !  let  us  not  commit  it,  if  we  want  to  he  truly 
happy  with  each  other.  Let  not  impatience  cause  us  to  do 
v\  Ton  if.  Providence  may  vet  remove  all  ohstacles  !o  our 
union.  'We  may  yet  he  happy  without  being  guilty,  and 
then  we  never  will  he  thoroughly  unhappy." 

"  Lovely  maiden  !"  exclaimed  Charles,  struck  with  ad 
miration  at  the  purity  of  her  sentiments,  although  so  much 
in  opposition  to  his  wishes:  "you  are  too  good,  to  angelic 
in  your  principles,  as  well  as  in  your  charms,  for  an  erring 
mortal  like  me.  But  I  will  he  guided  hy  \  on.  If  1  have 
not  virtue  to  resist  temptation  to  error,  I  will  learn  it  of  you. 
~\  ou  will  he  the  monitor  of  my  mind,  as  you  have  been  the 
charmer  of  my  eyes — you  will  instruct  me,  as  you  have 
f-^cinaled  me — you  will  excite  me  to  virtue,  as  yon  have 
warmed  me  to  love — and,  in  the  end,  make  me  happy  in 
ihe  approbation  of  my  own  conduct,  as  I  now  am  in  the 
:  •Imiratiuu  of  yours  !" 

A  day  or  two  alter  the  foregoing  conversation,  Charles 
i ''tired  from  the  camp  at  Shanapins  to  a  favorite1  walk,  for 
meditation,  which  he  had  discovered  on  the  hank  of  the 
\Ionongahela.  It  was  one  of  those  days  of  sunshine  which 
sometimes,  even  in  the  month  of  January,  chequer  the  Tin- 
steady  climate  around  the  head  of  the  Ohio,  and  make  a 
ramble,  at  that  usually  inclement  season,  inviting.  The  air 
n-as  considerably  warm,  and  although  in  hollow  places  that 
n-ere  shaded  from  the  rays  of  the  sun,  there  were  still  lodg 
ments  of  unmelted  ice  and  snow,  yet,  the  general  aspect  of 
;he  country  showed  that  there  had  been  a  thaw  of  several 
day's  continuance, as  in  all  exposed  situations  the  snow  had 
disappeared,  and  again  displayed  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
clothed  with  a  variegated  garment  of  undecaying  herbage 
mil  withered  leaves.  The  broad,  and  at  this  time,  full 
^tream  of  the  river  (lowed  majestically  past,  exhibiting  by 
'•pflection.  the  reversed  images  of  (lie  high  and  headlong 


THE     WILDERNESS. 

bunks    on    either   side,    hanging   pendulous,    with    all    then 
woods  upon  them,  within  its  glassy  bosom. 

Charles  sat  down  upon  a  protruding  fragment  of  stone. 
which  formed  the  basement  of  a  hig-h  rock  that  arose  from 
the  margin  of  the  stream.  He  became  soon  absorbed  in 
contemplating  the  charms  of  his  Maria,  and  comparing  the 
superior  happiness  he  should  enjoy  in  these  solitudes,  with 
her  for  his  daily  and  faithful  companion  through  life,  than, 
without  her,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  jraycties.  grandeur,  plea 
sures,  and  luxuries,  that  ingenuity  has  ever  invented  for  the 
gratification  of  social  life.  In  such  a  situation,  when  im 
pressed  with  such  feelings,  a  romantic  mind  can  hardly  re 
frain  from  becoming-  poetical;  and  Charles,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  already  moistened  his  lips  at  the  Castalian  fount. 
He  therefore,  on  this  occasion,  drew  out  his  memorandum 
book  and  pencil,  and  noted  down  the  following  lines,  ad 
dressed  to  the  Monongahela. 


Fnir  stream  !   though  deep  in  forest  glooms 

Thou  roll'st  thy  Indian-haunted  tide, 
Upon  thy  bank  a  maiden  blooms, 

The  gem  of  nature,  virtue's  pride  ! 
Let  others  choose  the  jovs  supplied 

By  art,  on  Thames"  or  Lifter's  shore, 
(live  me  upon  thy  sylvan  side, 

With  her  to  live — I  ask  no  more. 

Fair  stream  !   though  never  poet's  lav 

Hath  bade  the  world  thy  name  revere  ; 
Though  history's  page  refrains  to  say 

What  heroes  fought  and  conquer'd  here — 
Than  Tweed's  or  Tyber's  banks  moro  dear, 

Is  thy  unchanted  shore  to  me ; 
And  warm'd  to  rapture,  more  sincere, 

I  worship  charms  possessed  by  thoe  ! 

For  in  seclusion's  peaceful  shade, 

Fair  nature  oft  delights  to  show 
Some  flower  or  «em,  or  beauteous  maid, 

Too  lovely  for  the  world  to  know. 
Thus  woodland  roses  often  blow, 

To  bless  with  sweets  the  desert  wild. 
And  thus,  from  thee  my  raptures  flow, 

Maria,  nature's  fairest  child  ! 


I  UK     ^M.DKKNKSS.  2*-J7 

He  h.'iti  scarcelv  completed  these  stanzus,  when  he  heard 
the  sound,  of  footsteps  approaching  him,  anil  soon  the  form 
of  Tonnaleuka,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  his  return  to 
the  west,  stood  before  him. 

"Hail  to  thee,  my  son!"  said  the  prophet.  "I  am  glad 
ti>  SIM'  thee  yet  safe.  But  thou  eomest  in  an  evil  hour  to 
visit  this  land,  for  thy  safety  will  be  endangered.  Thy 
enemies  are  vigilant  and  strong,  and  they  will  soon  become 
in-live.  Still  thou  art  welcome  ;  and  1  hope  that  the  great 
Being1  will  protect  thee  from  the  perils  thou  art  doomed  to 
encounter." 

41  Father,"  replied  Charles,  li  since  my  arrival,  I  have 
longed  much  to  see  you.  The  dangers  you  speak  of,  I 
have  anticipated  from  the  enemy.  But  if  they  arrive  not, 
before  we  have  raised  our  defences,  1  will  not  fear  them. 
The  season,  1  expect,  will  till  then  protect  us." 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself,"  said  the  prophet;  '-the  sea 
son  will  not  protect  you,  neither  will  your  defences;  and 
your  numbers  are  insufficient.  But  prepare  your  ramparts 
with  what  haste  you  can.  From  behind  them  you  may  at 
it-ast  treat  for  safety,  if  you  cannot  fi^ht  for  victory.  My 
*'>n.  1  came  to  warn  you,  that  you  may  be  wary,  for  your 
toe  is  stronger  than  yon." 

"  Father,"  replied  Charles,  "  you  are  ever  kind  to  me. 
You  have  been  my  deliverer.  You  would  now  be  my 
o'uardian.  But  oh!  my  soul  is  sad,  my  life  is  weary,  and 
I  almost  wish  to  die.  You  possess  the  power,  if  any  earth 
ly  being  possesses  it,  to  procure  me  relief  from  my  troubles. 
May  I  crave  your  assistance,  for  alas!  what  good  will  pro 
tecting  rne  from  destruction  do,  if  my  existence  is  to  be 
miserable  ! 

"  Father,  I  love — thou  knowest  it.  Thou  knowest  how 
ardently,  how  devotedly — ah  no,  thou  canst  not  know  that. 
No  one  can  know  what  J  feel  for  the  loveliest,  the  dearest 
.)f  maidens  ! 

-'  Father — on  re\ -isitin»-  the  Wilderness,  1  rejoiced,  for  1 
thought  that  she  would  then  become  my  own.  I  brought 
with  me  one  qualiiied,  according  to  our  custom,  to  join  us 
in  marriage.  But  alas  !  she,  at  this  time,  refuses  to  unite 
her  fate  with  mine.  \ow.  when  she  might  make  me  hap- 


228  THE    WILDERNESS. 

py,  she  will  not,  and  misfortune  may  interfere,  alas  !  1 
much  dread  it,  to  prevent  us  from  ever  again  enjoying  such 
an  opportunity.  You,  you  alone,  my  father,  whom  she 
reveres  as  a  messenger  of  God,  can  alter  her  determination. 
Oh  !  let  me  implore  you  to  interfere.  Let  me  beg  thee,  as 
thou  vainest  my  happiness  and  my  regard  for  life,  to  show 
her  that  she  is  unnecessarily  cruel — to  show  her  that  she  is 
too  austerely  scrupulous  in  respect  to  matters  of  but  trifling 
moment,  when  compared  with  the  privation  to  which  she 
condemns  me." 

"  Son,"  replied  the  prophet,  "  I  know  the  desire  of  your 
heart.  I  also  know  her  determination,  and  I  approve  of  it. 
You  are  too  impatient,  my  son,  and  you  are  wrong.  She 
is  prudent,  and  I  rejoice  that  she  is  so.  Were  she  your 
wife,  think  you,  would  she  not  be  exposed  during  the  com 
ing  troubles,  for  alas !  I  see  them  approaching  fast,  to  perils 
and  calamities,  from  which,  in  her  private,  obscure  situation, 
as  the  daughter  of  Gilbert  Frazier,  she  will  be  exempt?" 

"Think  seriously,  my  son,  and  if  you  do  so,  you  will,  if 
your  love  be  for  her  welfare,  and  not  your  own  gratifica 
tion,  approve  of  her  resolution,  and  attempt  not  to  seduce 
her  from  it." 

"Father,"  replied  Charles,  eagerly,  and  greatly  agitated. 
"  Can  you — oh,  heavens  !  how  can  you  torture  me,  by  af 
fecting  to  doubt  the  purity,  the  disinterestedness  of  my  love 
for  that  angel !  Prefer  her  welfare  to  my  own  gratification ! 
Ah  !  if  my  heart  did  not  tell  me  that  I  did  so,  1  would  tear 
it  from  my  body,  and  cast  it  to  the  wolves  to  be  devoured, 
or  to  the  more  cruel  Chippeways,  to  be  consumed  in  the 
flames  of  their  animosity.  But,  father  !  could  she  not  be 
my  wife,  and  live  in  security?" 

"  No,  my  son — not,  at  least,  with  equal  ease  and  propri 
ety.  If  she  were  so  connected  with  you,  she  would  have 
responsibilities  upon  her,  from  which  she  is  now  free. 
Besides,  I  know  her  objection  is  on  account  of  your  not 
possessing  the  sanction  of  your  father.  She  knows  herself 
'to  be  penniless,  and  she  is  not  ignorant  of  the  value  which 
men  of  the  world,  like  your  father,  place  upon  wealth.  She 
has  a  right,  therefore,  to  anticipate  his  displeasure  both  to 
you,  and  to  herself,  if  she  shoxild  encourage  you  to  a  clan- 
destine  union. 


TIIK     WI1.DP.RNK3S. 

•'  .Mv  soil,  1  know  all  this  ;  and  can  you  ask  me  to  bid 
hi-r  do  wronir  '.  Nav.  if  von  solicit  her  with  your  rye* 
ot:.:n  to  all  these  thina-.  I  must  accuse  vou  of  preferrinir 
v  ur  own  la'atiiicalion  to  her  welfare.;. 

'•And,  hear  me,  my  son — should  your  solicitations  suc 
ceed,  you  would  soon  afterwards,  "when  the  evils  I  predict 
should  come  upon  \ou.  severely  condemn  your  own  rash- 

n    SS." 

••  Oh.  fa; her.  forbear !"  cried  Charles ;  '•  your  words  make 
n v  wretched!  Tell  me  what  I.  must  do'.-" 

"  With  respect  to  .Maria."  said  the  prophet,  ••  exert,  pa 
tience  ;  and  with  rc?pe<-t  ;o  your  enemies,  circumspection. 
This  is  mv  counsel." 

••\Vith  respect  to  the  enemy,  I  shall  follow  it,"  replied 
t'harles.  "and  with  p-specl  to  Alaria,  I  shall  endeavor — yes, 

I  shall  exert  patience,  although  it  sliould  kill  me." 

'•  Th.fii,  my  son.  r(;ccivc  mv  blessing, 'and  may  the  great 
father  lead  you  salely  ihrou'.!'h  the  perilous  times,  that  avo 
(':::'. \vinu'  ne;;i-  !  Farewell!  he  prudent  and  he  patient." 

So  s;iyii)o-.  Tonnalenka  ascended  the  banks,  and  left 
(  haries  fixed  to  the  spot,  in  a  stupor  of  intense  feeling, 
(  impounded  of  admiration,  disappointment,  and  <rrief  al 
most  approaching  to  despair.  In  a  short  time,  however, 

II  is  agitation  beijan  to   subside,  and   making'  a  mvat  ell'ort  to 
(••cover  at  least    the  appearance   of   serenity,  he  returned   to 
ihe    camp,  in  order  to  encourage  his   men    to    expedition   in 
forwarding  the  intended  fortification. 

KND   or    voi.i'ME    i. 


1'HK 


WILDERNESS; 


OH, 


B HADDOCK'S  TIMES 


A  TALE  OF  THE   WEST. 


\\nf  ai;d  Invc  linve  various  cares; — 
Wrsr  sheds  blood,  and  love  sheds  tears, 
War  h:is  swords,  ;ind  love  lias  darts, 
*>V;n  brent,  s  l.o.iiis,  and  love  breaks  hr:ails. 

M'CARROCHER 


TVVO   VOLUMES  I.\   ONK 
VOL.    II. 

IMTTSlUKl.Ii: 

.1MHN    H.    KI-'\\K|JV,    I((.()K    1M   lil.IMIl' 
I  i  in  ii  \i    S  i  ni.i  i  .   A  i  i  i  i.  ii  t  \  \ 
I  HIS. 


WILDERNESS 


CHAPTER  1. 


Then  might  you  see  on  earth  the  warriors  lie. 
Whose  limbs  robust  could  every  toil  defy; 
Inur'd  the  weight  ol  ponderous  arms  to  bear, 
Inur'd  on  fields  the  hostile  steel  to  dare, 
Deep  in  their  tiesh  the  hidden  furies  prey. 


THK  warning  which  Tonnaleuka  ht'd  given  Charles  to  be 
circumspect  in  regard  to  the  enemy,  was  not  lost  upon  him. 
He  employed  Paddy  Fra/ier  as  a  seont  to  hover  round  the 
French  station  at  Le  Hn-nf  in  order  to  watch  their  motions 
and  (live  him  the  earliest  intelligence  of  their  designs.  He 
also  kejtt  four  or  live  ol'  his  men  constantly  employed  in 
ranging  on  horseback,  those  qnarteis  of  the  country  from 
which  he  could  be  suddenly  attacked,  while  the  whole  of 
ill-  remainder  were  busily  engaged  in  disjoin"1  trenches,  and 
preparing  long  pointed  slakes  to  fix  in  the  ground  to  form 
th-'ir  stockade  fortification.  From  the  friendly  Indians  he 
at  first  received  considerable  aid  in  forwarding  his  works  ; 
but  in  a  few  days  lie  bfrran  to  perceive  their  ardor  diminish  ; 
an  1  suspecting  that  they  had  imbibed  some  unfriendly  feel 
ing  towards  him,  he  thought  proper  to  visit  king  Shingiss, 
an  1  expostulate  with  him  on  the  subject. 


1  HI!-:     WM.OKK.NKSS. 

His  LMawaiv  Mfyrsiv  slated  to  him,  that  he  .-till  prefer 
>cd  his  nation  to  the  French,  but.  as  lie  was  now  imitating 
iheir  conduct  l>v  building1  strong-holds  in  the,  country,  man} 
of  his  peon!"  began  lat  these  might  some  day.  be 

used  ai_ra;M-'L  them  instead  of  the  common  enemy. 

Charles  assured  him  that  his  .strength  never  would  be  em 
ployed  against  his  friends  ;  but  that  such  of  the  tribes  a? 
remained  true  to  him  should  always  experience  his  grati 
Hide;  and  if  hi?  nation  should  wax  strong  in  the  country, 
which  he  doubled  not,  if  would  during  the  next  summer,  s<; 
as  to  overmatch  the  French,  those,  who  now  adhered  to  him 
Hi  his  weakness,  would  he  amply  compensated  and  protn- 
ted  from  their  enemiec. 

The  result  of  ihis  interview  wa.s,  thai  Shingiss  promised 
to  remonstrate  with  his  people,  and  exhort  them  to  befriend 
and  assist  ihe  Kiv/lish  as  usual.  Tiu-v  became  in  conse 
quence  somewhat  more  earnest  in  (he  aid  thev  afforded,  and 
bv  their  assistance,  in  about  five  weeks  after  Ch-.ir!<^'s  :n-j  i 
val,  the  trench  was  dug  and  piles  planted  around  the  two  mos' 
exposed  sides  of  the  intended  fort.  The  other  two  side- 
being  skirled  by  the  rivers,  did  not  require  a  trench,  and  the 
piles  for  their  circumvailation  were  getting  ready  with  all 
possible  despatch.. 

Matters  were  thus  situated  with  our  adventurers,  when 
Paddy  Frazier  arrived  in  haste  one  evening  with  intelligence, 
that  a  large  body  of  French,  consisting,  as  he  conjectured, 
of  between  four  and  five  hundred  men.  collected  from  vari 
ous  forts,  were  proceeding  rapidly  down  the  course  of  \\\>-. 
Alleghany  rivc.r,  to  attack  them. 

This  intelligence  was  indeed  alarming,  as.  their  defences 
were  as  yet  but  slight,  and  the  few  Indians  who  were  present, 
were  of  very  doubtful  fidelity.  Charles,  however,  deter 
mined  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  and  resist  his  ene 
mies  as  long  as  he  could,  with  little  hope  indeed  of  victory, 
but  with  the  expectation  of  forcing  them,  if  he  musl  capitu 
late,  to  grant  him  honorable  terms.  He  despatched  a  mes 
senger  to  Shingiss,  requesting  the  aid  of  the  Delaware  war 
riors.  Shingiss  attended  personally  with  about  thirty  men. 
being  all  he  could  muster  on  the  emergency.  \Vheu  he 
arrived,  he  addressed  Charles 


1HF.     \VI1.DKRNKSS.  U 

;  \  on  suspected  me,  brother,"  said  lie,  "of  waul  of  fidel- 
uv  10  your  interests.  Brother,  I  promised  you  my  assistance 
m  vour need — you  now  shall  have  it,  for  I  never  broke  my 
wo>-d.  Von  will  never  teil  your  great  kii)2:  of  the  east,  that 
Sh;,iyis-_;  was  a  deceiver,  bocuusr>  1  expect  that  you  will  tell 
'ni'ii. 

"  Brother,  1  have  reasoned  thus  :  I  will  join  the  English 
now,  because  I  am  pledged  to  it.  The  French  are  more 
powerfid  and  will  beat  us — but  then  we  will  only  be  beaten, 
<s  irave  men  often  are — we  shall  not  have  broken  our  words 
i:k  -  r.lu°ats  and  cowards. 

••  Xow  brother — 1  am  ready  to  obey  you." 

\11  Charles's  force  was  now  concentrated  within  the  en 
trenchinents ;  and  every  man  was  in  full  expectation  of  a 
speedy  and  severe  contict.  They  kept  all  night  on  the  \de.ri, 
one  half  only  retiring  to  rest  at  the,  time.  During  the  night, 
however  they  were  left  undisturbed  ;  hut  the  morning  scarce- 
'y  dawned  when  they  perceived  the  woods  at,  the,  distance  of 
iiti'e  more  than  five  hundred  yards,  glittering  with  the  arms 
und  uniforms  of  the  French  soldiers. 

'n  a  short  time  a  man  approached  with  a  white  flag,  who 
admitted  into  the  entrenchments.  He  ^aid  he  was  sent 
to  demand  from  Mr.  Adderly  an  absolute  surrender  of  him 
self,  -and  ail  the  men  and  stores  under  his  command  to  Mon- 
si<-tir  St.  Pierre,  the  officer  commanding  the  troops  of  his 
most  Christian  Majesty  nt  l,e  Boeuf,  in  return  for  which 
hi-  own  life,  and  the  lives  of  all  his  followers,  should  he  pro- 
te  ted  from  the  power  of  the  Indians,  although  they  musi 
submit  to  be  sent  to  Canada,  perhaps  to  France,  as  prisoner* 
of  war. 

Charles  at  once  rejected  these  terms.  "If  we  were  abso 
lutely  beaten,  thought  he,  they  could  not  ask  for  a  submis 
sion  more  disgraceful.  In  the  name  of  God  and  our  country, 
wo  will  try  them.  If  we  beat  them  off,  it  is  well.  If  mil, 
i!  is  only  to  submit  when  we  can  do  no  belter.  " 

His  refusal  was  scarcelv  communicated  to  the  French 
commander,  when  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  attack 
commenced  by  a  heavy  lire  of  musketry  opening  upon  the 
Fnglish.from  which  their  defence*  were  .so  incomplete  as  to 
•i'TV>nl  fbpin  n  v*.jrv  imp*'1  •('«•'•(  -behei.  Thov  fniififhl  however 


O  THE    WILDERNESS. 

with  great  bravery,  returning  the  lire  of  their  enemies  with 
such  promptitude  and  steadiness,  that  they  dared  not  advance 
to  storm  the  works,  as  was  their  first  intention. 

Neither  party  had  any  cannon,  as  the  French  understand 
ing  that  the  English  had  none,  did  not  choose  to  spend  time 
in  transporting  any  over  such  a  difficult  country  as  lay  be 
tween  Le  lio?uf  and  Shanapins,  lest  the  British  might  become 
too  well  fortified  before  they  attacked  them.  The  whole  of 
this  forenoon  was,  therefore,  spent  in  the  interchange  of  a 
severe  and  unintermilting  fire  of  musketry,  very  destructive 
10  both  si  do*.  The  French,  it  is  true,  saved  themselves  as 
much  as  they  could  behind  trees,  which  afforded  them  almost 
as  secure  a  shelter  as  the  unfinished  stockade  did  the  English. 
Their  numbers,  however,  and  the  necessity  th.ey  weie  under 
of  making  frequent  movements,  rendered  them  more  ex 
posed  than  the  English.  They  had,  therefore,  considerably 
the  worst  of  it  during  this  period  of  attack. 

Monsieur  St.  Pierre,  therefore,  about  one  o'clock  in  the  af 
ternoon,  resolved  to  change  the  mode  of  combat.  lie  ac 
cordingly  drew  off  his  men  from  the  reach  of  the  English  fire, 
and  dividing  them  into  two  parties,  ordered  Captain  Joncaire 
to  proceed  with  one  of  them,  out  of  view  of  the  enemy,  to 
wards  the  Monongahela,  and  under  cover  of  its  high  bank, 
which  varied  in  height  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  above  the 
common  surface  of  the  river,  to  proceed  down,  by  the  water's 
edge,  to  the  point  at  the  junction  of  ihe  two  rivers  where  the 
English  station  was  yet  unprotected.  He  took  himself  the 
charge  of  the  other  division  which  he  conducted,  in  a  similar 
manner,  under  shelter  of  the  Alleghany  bank.  It  was  cal 
culated  that  both  divisions  would  reach,  nearly  at  one  time, 
the  defenceless  quarter  of  the  English  position.  If  not,  how 
ever,  as  either  party  considerably  out-numbered  the  force  to 
be  attacked,  the  one  which  arrived  first,  was  to  lose  no  time 
in  waiting  for  the  other,  since  it  could  not  be  far  off  with  its 
assistance. 

St.  Pierre's  own  Division  came  first  to  the  atttack,  but  on 
scaling  the  bank  which  was  considerably  steep,  nearly  thirty 
of  his  men  were  killed  by  a  well  directed  fire  from  the  Eng 
lish,  and  the  rest  shrunk  back  under  cover  of  the  bank. 
Another  minute,  however,  brought  forward  .Toncaire's  divi- 


THE    WILDERNESS,  7 

sion,  who  made  good  their  destination,  not,  indeed,  without 
some  loss,  which,  however,  they  severely  repaid  by  a  dread- 
ful  volley  upon  Charlo's  men,  who  were  now  without  shel 
ter.  That  instant  St.  Pierre's  men  also  leaped  upon  the 
contested  ground  ;  and.  Charles,  seeing  that  further  resistance 
would  only  bring  useless  destruction  upon  his  followers,  sub 
mitted  to  necessity  and  surrendered  himself  and  his  party 
prisoners  of  war. 

In  tin's  second  disastrous  conflict,  which  Charles  had  con 
ducted  against  the  enemies  of  his  country,  he  lost  nearly  half 
his  men.  Five  or  six  others  were  wounded,  and  he  himself 
had  one  of  his  thighs  slightly  injured  by  a  musket  hall.  Of 
his  Indian  auxiliaries,  ten  or  twelve,  among  whom  he  perti- 
milarly  regretted  UingSingiss,  were  killed.  The  French  had 
between  forty  and  fifty  slain,  and  nearly  as  many  wounded; 
but  their  victory  was  decisive,  and  the  object  of  their  expe 
dition  completely  attained. 

The  French  commander  now  resolved  to  keep  possession 
of  the  ground  he  had  taken,  both  as  furthering  the  views  of  his 
government  in  extending  their  line  of  forts  from  Quebec,  to 
New  Orleans,  and  as  being  the  most  eligible  position  from 
which  he  could  not  only  overawe  the  Indians,  but  check  any 
future  attempts  that  the  Ohio  Company,  or  even  the  British 
nation,  might  make  upon  this  country. 

lie  immediately  set  his  men  to  work,  assisted  by  a  great 
number  of  Indians,  to  finish  the  fort  which  the  English  had 
begun.  During  the  ensuing  spring,  this  post  assumed  a  very 
formidable  aspect,  under  the  name  of  Fort  l)u  Quesne,  over 
awing  any  of  the  Indian  tribes  that  might  still  harbor  a  se 
cret  partiality  for  the  English,  and  for  several  years  setting 
even  the  whole  power  of  the  British  in  America,  at  defiance. 

St.  Pierree,  at  once  perceived  the  advantage  of  ingratiating 
himself  with  the  neighboring  tribes,  and  drawing  them  off 
from  the  English  interest.  He  therefore  set  all  the  Dela- 
wares,  whom  he  had  made  prisoners  in  the  hte  battle,  at  li 
berty,  and  king  Shingiss  being  now  dead,  he  had  no  difficulty 
in  forming  an  alliance  with  hi.s  successor. 

Not  having  accommodations  for  the  English  prisoners  at 
Uu  Quesne,  he  in  a  few  days  after  the  battle,  sent  the  greater 
number  of  them  under  n  strong  escort,  to  Le  Rtruf.  But 


WII.DERNK3S. 


But  Charles  was  detained  until  his  wound  should  be  so  far 
healed  as  to  permit  him  to  travel  without  inconvenience.  He 
was  kindly  enough  treated  by  the  French  commander,  who 
permitted  him  to  retain  all  his  private  ba,'i<rage,  and  afforded 
him  every  accommoclf  lion  for  his  personal  comfort,  that  the 
circumstances  of  the  place  could  afford. 

Charles  bore  his  misfortunes  stoutly,  for  his  conscience 
told  him  that  he  had  done  all  that  man  could  do  to  avoid  them. 
His  employers  had  not  furnished  him  with  sufficient  force  to 
effect  their  designs,  and  hence  they  failed,  and  failed  too, 
without  any  great  disappointment  to  his  anticipations.  But 
he  did  not  blame  the  company.  The}'  had  given  him  all  the 
force  they  could  muster  for  such  an  enterprise,  and  his  own 
anxiety  to  have  business  once  more  in  the  vicinity  of  his 
Maria,  together  with  an  iil-jndged  notion  that  the  inclemency 
of  the  season  might  protect  him  until  he  should  be  fortified, 
and  receive  additional  succours  from  the  eastward,  had  induced 
him  to  accept  its  command. 

The  state  of  Maria's  mind,  on  hearing  of  his  defeat,  he 
had  found  means  to  ascertain  from  Tonnaleuka,  who  visited 
him  a  day  or  two  after  the  battle. 

The  prophet  informed  him,  ';  that  on  first  hearing  that  the 
French  were  about  to  attack  him,  with  an  overwhelming  force, 
she,  and  indeed  the  whole  of  the  Frazier  family,  manifested 
great  agitation  and  alarm  for  his  safety  ;  but  as  soon  as  it  was 
understood  that  he  had  escaped  with  life,  she  became  re 
signed  and  thankful  ;  for  she  knew  that  to  he  a  prisoner  ot 
war  in  the  hand  of  Europeans,  although  it  might  be  a  disa 
greeable  and  troublesome,  yet  it  was  not  a  dangerous,  nor 
could  it  be  a  permanent  matter.  She  therefore  consoled 
herself  with  the  hope  that  all  might  yet  be  well. 

The  French  commander  knew  nothing  about  Charle's  in 
timacy  with  the  Frazier  family,  nor  even  of  their  partiality 
for  the  English  interest.  He  knew  them  indeed  to  be  Bri 
tish  subjects,  for  he  had  often  heard  of  them;  but  he  had 
also  heard  of  their  long  residence  in  the  Wilderness,  and  o: 
their  peaceable  demeanor  ;  and  he  conceived  that  irom  lont 
association  with  the  Indians,  they  must  have  thrown  off  much 
of  their  European  manners  and  partiality-  It  did  not  appeal 
that  they  had,  in  anv  manner,  assisted  the  English  in  th«r 


IHE     WILDERNESS.  9 

late  attempts  to  gain  a  footing  in  the  country  farther  than  bv 
entertaining  some  of  their  sojourners,  and  trading  with  them, 
wiiir.li  they  were  in  the  habit  of  doing  with  individuals  of 
e\  -ry  nation  who  visited  them.  As  to  Paddy's  agency  in 
behalf  of  Charles'  cause,  it  was  conducted  by  that  wily 
woodsman,  with  so  much  adroitness  and  secresy,  that  no  one 
in  the  French  interest  suspected  him.  lie  was,  therefore, 
without  hindrance,  permitted  to  trade  at  their  forts,  with 
which  he  continued  to  maintain  as  free  and  uncontrolled  an 
intercourse  as  before  these  transactions. 

\s  in  Tonnaleuka,  although  the  French  commandant  had 
ton  much  of  the  philosophical  scepticism  of  his  countrymen 
in  his  disposition,  to  place  much  confidence  in  his  propheti 
cal  pretensions,  yet  he  respected  him  as  a  man  of  extraor 
dinary  talents  and  information,  and  courted  his  friendship 
and  good  will  with  considerable  assiduity,  on  account  of  the 
great  influence  that  he  knew  him  to  possess  over  the  native 
tribes.  The  prophet  was  therefore  under  no  restraint  in  his 
intercourse  with  Hie  different  forts  ;  and  consequently,  very 
fe\v  matters  of  importance  were  agitated,  either  there,  or  in 
any  of  the  Indian  councils,  with  which  he  was  not  acquainted. 

fn  a  few  weeks,  Charles  Adderly  being  quite  recovered  of 
hi.-;  wound,  Monsieur  St.  Pierre  thought  proper  to  send  him 
under  a  guard  of  six  soldiers,  to  his  fellow  prisoners  at  I.e 
Bieuf.  This  was  a  movement  very  much  against  Charles' 
inclination.  He  wished  to  remain  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
residence  of  Maria;  and  lie  had  during  his  confinement  con 
soled  himself  with  the  hope  of  obtaining  permission,  on  his 
parole,  to  occasionally  visit  Fra/ier's  family,  lie  had,  how 
ever,  to  submit  to  the  will  of  his  conqueror ;  and  he  departed 
fr<>m  Duquesue  in  company  with  his  guard,  with  a  heavy 
and  reluctant  heart,  about  the  beginning  of  February,  1754. 

The  weather  was  cold  and  dry,  with  about  two  feet  depth 
oi  snow  on  the  ground  ;  but  the  party  were  hardy  and  lively 
and  tolerably  well  equipped  for  the  journey.  They  preceded 
o,,  merrily  <nul  carelessly,  for  nearly  two  days,  without  meet 
ing  wilhany  accident:  but  on  the  evening  of  the  second, 
when  they  reached  tin;  bank  of  Bear  ('reek,  between  thirty 
and  forty  miles  from  Uu  Quesne,  their  progress  was  unex 
pectedly  arrested  by  a  volley  of  musketry  tired  by  men  in 


10  THE     WILDERNESS. 

ambush,  which  killed  four  of  the  men  guard  upon  the  spot. 
The  assailants  immediately  leaped  from  their  concealment, 
with  loud  cheers  ;  and  to  Charles'  infinite  surprise  and  de 
light,  he  beheld  his  friends  Paddy  and  Archy  Frazier,  Peter 
M'Fall  and  Dr.  Killbreath.  Paddy,  the  Doctor  and  Archy. 
threw  away  their  rifles,  and  seizing  each  a  loaded  musket 
from  the  fallen  Frenchmen,  gave  instant  chace  to  the  two 
survivers,  who,  the  moment  their  companions  fell,  had  taken 
to  flight,  without  thinking  of  Charles,  or  waiting  to  see  whe 
ther  they  were  attacked  by  Indians  or  white  men.  But  Pe 
ter  ran  directly  to  loosen  the  cords  that  bound  his  master's 
wrists  ;  Charles,  however,  ordered  him  first  to  call  his  com 
panions  back  from  the  pursuit,  saying,  "there  lias  already 
been  slaughter  enough  here.  It  will  now  do  no  harm  to  al 
low  these  two  poor  fellows  to  escape." 

"  Arrah  ?  Master,  now  my  honey,  never  mind,"  said  Pe 
ter.  "  Who  knows  but  they  might  come  and  fire  a  backshol 
at  us,  before  we  could  get  home;  and  then  the  devil  take  us, 
if  the  chance  wouldn't  be  that  some  of  us  would'nt  get  home 
at  all,  at  all.  By  the  Piper,  Doran  !  who  broke  the  hang 
man's  neck  at  the  foot  of  the  gallows,  master,  but  our  boys 
must  send  lead  into  their  wheezans." 

By  this  time,  however,  Charles  was  loose,  and  he  hastened 
himself  after  the  pursuers,  whom  he  was  able  easily  to  trace, 
by  their  tracks  in  the  snow.  Me  had  not  run  far,  until 
he  heard  two  or  three  shots  fired,  and  again  loud  cheers  rang 
in  the  air.  He  soon  arrived  at  the  spot,  and  found  to  his 
unspeakable  chagrin,  that  the  objects  of  his  solicitude  had 
received  their  death  wounds. 

"My  friends — I  heartily  thank  you  for  the  service  you  have 
rendered  me,"  said  he.  "  But  would  it  not  have  been  as  well 
to  have  spared  these  poor  men  !  Was  not  your  object  fully 
enough  accomplished  before  their  detruction  ?'' 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Paddy.  "  When  I  manage  a  thing,  it 
shall  never  be  half  done,  or  else  the  devil  is  in  it.  Our  ob 
ject  was,  no  doubt,  to  rescue  at  all  risks,  but  it  was  also,  to 
do  it  without  any  risk,  if  we  could.  And  do  you  think  thai 
there  would  be  no  risk  in  permitting  these  men  to  escape  ' 
If  we  did  not  pursue  them  to  death,  they  might  have  pur 
sued  us,  bv  our  tracks  in  the  snow,  to  discoverv  ;  which 


THE     WILDERNESS.  11 

t:iiiiiit  one  clay  have  terminated  in  the  destruction  of  at  least 
some  of  us  ;  perhaps  of  your  humble  servant,  my  precious 
self,  who  knows  !  for  it  s  a.s  certain  as  that  snow  lies  there, 
that  they  would  have  discovered  and  toldtheir  names  to  our 
good  friends,  their  complaisant  countrymen.  Nay,  they 
misfit  have  taken  •*  more  speedy  revenge,  by  sending,  from 
M>me  convenient  place,  a  couple  of  balls  after  us,  one  of 
which  miirht  have  lodged  in  my  own  groin,  where,  Mr.  Ad- 
dcrlv,  I  assure  you  I  would  have  conceived  it  no  agreeable 
guest.  In  short,  sir,  by  shooting  them,  I  breathe  easier,  and 
am  likely  to  breathe  longer." 

'•  There  may  may  be  some  truth  in  your  observations," 
returned  Charles;  "and  as  the  deed  is  now  done,  it  will  do 
DO  iMjod  to  argue  its  propriety.  Let  me  again  assure  you  of 
iy  o-ratitude  for  your  exertions  in  my  behalf.  1  only  wish 
;  iat  the  affair  could  have  been  managed  with  less  bloodshed 
tuit  that  may  have  been  impossible." 

"  Arrah,  master  !"  cried  Petei  AlcFall,  "it  has  been  done 
>nu<rly.  I  knew  Paddy  was  the  boy  eould  manage  it.  Och  ! 
long  life  to  his  mother  that  put  such  an  eye  in  his  head  when 
she  bore  him.  By  the  great  Brian  !  master,  if  he  couldn't- 
at  half  a  mile's  distance  shoot  your  nose  ofi"  without  touching 
vour  face  !" 

"Arrah!  master,  now  be  asy,"  said  Peter,  winking  si<rni- 
iicantly  ;  "  c;m't  you  keep  a  bit  of  a  secret;  sure  I  told  you 
before  that  there  are  more  ways  of  getting  out  of  Le  Bo'uf 
than  by  the  door," 

"  What  !  then  I  suppose  you  escaped  through  the  kennel 
again  !"  said  Charles. 

"  .No,  your  honor.  By  the  sovvl,  the  devil  could'nt  now 
escape  that  way,"  replied  Peter;  "  it  is  now  a  wooden  pipe, 
that  you  could  scarcely  put  your  fist  in.  But  I  scaled  the 
walls,  may  it  please  your  honor,  like  a  lark,  and  swung  down 
the  'tother  side  like  a  swallow,  and  so  bade  them  adieu,  to 
their  own  meal  and  potatoes  ;  though  the  devil  a  morsel  of 
oatmeal  or  a  good  Irish  potato  did  Peter  ever  see  among  them, 
my  honey  !" 

In  short,  by  dint  of  patience  and  interrogatories,  Charles 
ascertained  that  Peter,  finding  from  alteration  in  thestiucture 
of  the  drain  which  had  been  before  so  propitious  to  him,  that 


1IIK     \\  II.OKUNKSS. 

ho  could  do  HO  good  by  its  means,  resolved  lo  consider  sorin 
other.  He  lor  several  days  prosecuted  his  investigations, 
and  exercised  his  ingenuity  to  no  purpose.  But  lie  w;^ 
resolved  not  to  be  bullied  in  his  designs.  Escape  he  must, 
he  had  repeatedly  sworn  to  himself,  if  he  should  some  night 
blow  out  the  sentinel's  brains  in  order  to  effect  it.  Thi.-« 
would  be  a  rather  dangerous  scheme,  he  thought,  and  there 
fore  after  long  balancing  on  the  subject,  he  preferred  one 
which  only  presented  him  with  the  trilling  hazard  of  breaking 
his  neck. 

He  had  taken  notice  of  a  long  line  of  jnck-cord,  which 
reached  from  the  top  of  one  of  the  piles  to  the  stoccade  t<. 
an  iron  staple  fixed  in  the  gable  of  one  of  the  store-houses. 
This  line  had  been  placed  there  for  the  purpose  r,f  nirin;j  and 
drying  the  clothes  of  the  garrison.  This  cord  parti  v  from 
its  smallness,  and  partly  from  long  exposure  to  the  weather. 
had  become  rather  weak  to  bear  the  weight  of  Mich  a  man 
as  Peler  ;  but  he  instantly  conceived  that  if  it  were  doubled, 
it  might  answer,  the  use  he  intended.  In  order  to  ascertain 
this,  he  took  an  opportunity,  when  he  was  unobserved,  of 
relieving1  its  end  from  the  staple,  and  having  doubled  it,  he 
found  it  alter  repeatedly  trying  his  weight  upon  it,  quite  suf 
ficient  for  his  purpose.  He  again  secured  it  in  the  staple, 
until  night  should  give  him  an  opportunity  of  commencing 
his  operations  ;  and  in  the  interval  searched  for  and  found 
a  large  iron  hook,  to  tlu1  one  end  of  which,  when  the  hour 
was  favorable  for  his  design,  he  attached  -the  cord,  and  by 
repeatedly  throwing  it  up  to  the  top  of  the  stoccade,  he  at 
last  dexterously  fixed  it  upon  the  pile  around  which  the 
other  end  of  the  cord  was  bound.  He  now,  by  a  great  f  f- 
fort  of  strength,  slung  over  the  piles  a  small  bag  of  provi 
sions,  and  then,  with  the  agility  of  a  cat.  ascended  to  the 
top  of  the  stoccade,  from  which  he  at  first  intended  to  let 
himself  drop  down.  But  the  height  was  too  fearful.  He, 
therefore,  drew  over  his  cord,  and  fixing  the  hook  more 
firmly  than  when  he  ascended,  he  committed  his  safety  to  it, 
and  in  a  few  moments  reached  the  ground  on  the  outside, 
without  injury.  Then  shouldering  his  bag  of  provisions, 
he  whistled  adieu  to  Le  Bo?uf,  and  in  about  a  week  found 
himself  seated  bv  Gilbert  Frazier's  fireside.  Hence  it  was 


r  UK    \\  M.itr.RM-'.s.*.  I  3 

that  Padd\ .  who  projected  and  conducted  the  scheme  of 
Charles's  rescue,  obtained  him  as  a  hold  and  zealous  aux 
iliary. 


(•HAI'TER  II. 

Oh,  Anna  !  tlnnk'st  than  Hint;  or  spac^ 

<~an  ever  change  a  love  like  mine  ; 

f.';m  from  my  mem'ry  e'er  eflace 

''harms  there  impress'd  so  deep  »s  thine  ; 

No  ;   1  may  suffer  and  repine, 

While  round  niv  head  lile's  tempests  roll  ; 

To  death  itself  I  inav  resign, 

But  thou  slin.lt  triumph  in  my  soul  ! 

SAVELABOUK. 

A  SHORT  time  brought  Charles  to  the  residence  of  his  be 
loved.  Oh!  how  comfortable,  how  happy  he  now  felt,  as  he 
sat  b}  her  side  and  ifa/ed  upon  her  charms.  Here  he  he- 
held  himself  so  suddenly,  so  unexpectedly,  freed  from  the 
midst  of  his  misfortunes,  and  placed  in  that  very  spot,  where 
of  all  the  world  he  most  wished  to  be.  and  in  the  presence 
of  her  whose  society  alone  could  yield  him  true  happiness, 
that  the  whole  almost  appeared  to  him  os  if  it  had  been  the 
effect  of  magic.  What  luxury  on  earth  was  equal  to  this! 
what  could  he  wish  for  more!  The  bliss  of  "pleasure  af 
ter  pain"  he  now  enjoyed  for  a  few  days  almost  to  intoxi 
cation  ;  for  in  the  romance  of  his  feelings,  in  the  intensity 
of  his  joy,  his  gratitude  and  his  love,  he  buried  every  recol 
lection  of  past  pain,  except  such  as  served  to  make  present, 
enjoyment  sweeter;  and  as  to  any  anticipations  of  future 
evil,  they  could  no  more  «riin  his  attention  than  a  true-bred 
\  ankee  could  foro-et  charging  for  valur  delivered. 

But  Maria  did  not.  feel  so  perfectly  at  ease.      Rejoiced  as 
shr  was  8t  his  rscapr  from   his  enemies,  she  greatly  feared 


14  I'iib     WILDERNESS. 

Ins  falling  again  into  their  hands,  for  she  know  that  under 
present  circumstances  he  could  not  in  the  Wilderness  enjoy 
that  perfect  safety  she  wished  for  him.  His  enemies  she 
believed  would  soon  hear  or  suspect  something  of  his  res 
cue,  and  would  no  doubt  use  all  their  powerful  endeavors 
to  discover  the  place  of  his  concealment.  She  endeavor 
ed  to  impress  these  truths  upon  her  lover's  mind,  but  he,  for 
the  first  two  or  three  days,  would  give  toleration  to  no  feel 
ing  that  possessed  the  remotest  appearance  of  being  a  draw 
back  upon  his  present  enjoyment. 

At  length  his  enthusiasm  of  delight  bewail  somewhat  to 
subside;  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  to  become  reasonable; 
and  she  succeeded  in  convincing  him  that  his  only  security 
against  being  retaken  by  his  enemies,  would  be  close  con 
cealment,  or  else  flight  from  the  Wilderness.  The  latter 
expedient  she  acknowledged  was,  at  this  season  of  the  year 
rather  difficult  and  dangerous.  The  weather  was  inclement 
and  he  might  perish  in  a  storm;  or,  as  the  mountains  wen 
covered  with  snow,  an  attempt  to  cross  them  might  lead  to 
his  discovery,  by  exposing  the  tracks  of  his  footsteps  to  tin; 
enemy. 

Removal  from  the  vicinity  of  his  Maria  was  indeed,  at 
this  time  a  disagreeable  step,  which  Charles  was  happy  to 
have  some  reasonable  excuse  for  avoiding. 

"  My  love,"  said  he,  "  banish  me  from  your  presence,  and 
I  will  adopt  any  other  means  of  security — I  will  conceal 
myself  in  any  other  manner  you  may  prescribe." 

"  You  are  aware,"  said  she,  "  that  as  soon  as  the  French 
suspect  your  escape,  they  will  search  for  you  here.  They 
will  naturally  suppose  that,  if  you  be  at  all  in  the  Wilder 
ness,  your  countrymen  will  know  something  of  you.  1 
wish  you  to  disguise  deeply,  remove  to  some  distance  from 
us,  and  visit  us  but  seldom,  at  least  until  the  heat  of  the  pur 
suit  after  you  shall  abate.  Tonnaleuka  shall  furnish  \  ou 
with  a  retreat,  for  he  knows  all  the  fastnesses  and  lurking 
places  of  the  forest.  Our  family  will  take  care  to  supply 
you  with  every  thing  they  can  render  your  asylum  comfort 
able." 

"  Oh,  Maria  !  this  is  almost  banishment,"  he  replied  ;  "it 
will  drive  me  to  some  solitary  shade  where  I  will  be  depri 
ved  of  your  presence.'' 


THE    WILDERNESS.  15 

"  But  it  is  necessary  in  your  present  circumstances,*'  said 
ohe,  "to  submit  to  this  inconvenience,  tmle-s  you  wish  again 
to  be  captured  ;  and  the  sooner  you  submit,  my  Charles,  I 
will  feel  the  sooner  at  ease  in  regard  to  your  safety." 

"O  Maria!  speak  ever  thus  to  me,  and  I  will  do  any 
thing  you  wish.  But,  bethink  you,  my  sweetest  maiden, 
there  is  not,  there  cannot  be.  much  danger  of  my  being  here 
searched  for  so  very  soon  as  you  apprehend.  There  is  not 
one  of  my  escort  now  living  to  tell  the  story  of  mv  rescue. 
It  will  be  many  days  before  any  suspicion  of  it  takes  place 
at  Le  Boeuf.  ami  many  more  before  that  suspicion  is  com  - 
munieatr-'d  to  Du  Quesne.  Even  then,  the  enemy  will  not 
be  certain  whether  the  whole  party  may  not  have  perished, 
either  by  intense  cold,  or  by  some  marauding  band  of  trea 
cherous  Indians.  In  short,  my  too  timid  love,  I  do  not  be 
lieve  that  (lie  pursuit  after  me  will  be  either  very  eager,  or 
of  long  continuance." 

"It  mav  turn  out  as  you  say,"  replied  Maria;  "but  it 
mav  also  turn  out  otherwise.  This  is  the  danger;  and  to 
guard  against  misfortune  upon  which  we  can  calculate,  how 
ever  remo'.e  may  be  its  appearance,  is  surely  wise  and  pru 
dent.  (3  Charles  !  be  prudent,  for  both  our  sakes.  0  !  re 
lieve  my  mind,  and  without  delay  betake  yourself  to  dis 
guise  ami  concealment." 

'•  I  shall  do  as  you  wish,"  said  he.  "  For  your  sake  I 
will  dive  in'.o  the  thickest  of  the  woods,  into  the  depths  of 
c'iveni>,  lor  concealment.  O  ily  let  your  mind  be  at  ease, 
I  will  vanish  from  danger,  although  in  doing  so,  I  shall  be 
banished  from  you.  I  will  attend  Tonnaleuka  wherever  he 
cho  »es  to  lend  me. 

'•  Xow  I  HIM  satisfied,  Charles,"  said  she;  "all  will  be 
well.  Under  the  prophet's  care  y<  u  will  he  safe.  He  will 
hi.-  h"re  this  night  and  wil'  direct  your  proceedings." 

That  evening  Tonnaleuka,  as  Maria  had  foretold,  visited 
them 

"  Mv  son,"  said  he  to  Charles,  "you  are  once  more  nut 
of  the  p  ivvcrof  your  ene.nies,  and  it  only  now  requires  pru 
dence  to  keep  you  so.  My  -on,  I  "rejoice  that  this  ma  < ten 
lias  prevailed  on  you  to  follow  my  directions.  If  you  be 
ready,  follow  me — but  first  bid  that  maiden  farewell,  for  you 
*«'ill  not  see  her  for  many  weeks."  20 


"Oh,  iaiber!"  lie  cried,  "what  do  you  require  of  nu  ! 
Why  separate  us  so  lonir  /  What  necessity  is  there — " 

"AIv  you,''  said  Tonnaieuka,  "1  have  promised  to  her, 
that  if  you  obey  my  directions.  1  will  be  responsible  for 
your  safety;  and  I  will  not  endanger  my  word  by  exposing 
it  to  risk.  Your  obedience  will  be  voluntary;  but  if,  by 
following  your  inclinations,  you  bring  evil  upon  yourself, 
then  1  shall  be  blameless.  Mow,  my  son,  choose  whether 
you  shall  be  governed  by  me,  or  by  your  own  imprudent 
wishes." 

Charles  looked  at  Muria  with  an  expression  which  asked, 
"Shall  I  go?" 

"Mr.  Addeiiy,"  said  she,  "this  hesitation  is  unbecoming, 
it  is  weak.  Haste,  attend  the  prophet,  if  you  regard  my 
peace  of  mind,  or  your  own  absolute  security.  Alas  ! 
Charles,  since  you  will  have  me  to  express  myself  so,  I 
•j'eel  every  hour  an  a*re,  tiil  I  know  that  you  are  beyond  the 
reach  of  your  enemies." 

"  I  go,  dearest  of  maidens,  and  I  promise  to  obey  the  pro- 
phot.  But  oh!  let  me  ask  one  request.  If  there  be  danger 
in  my  coining  to  ihee,  surely  there  can  be,  none  in  thy  visit 
ing  me.  Will  the  distance  be  loo  far  to  allow  me  sometimes 
to  see  thee  in  my  concealment  T' 

"  It  may  happen  that  1  will  visit  you,"  she  replied. 
"But  if  I  should  not,  you  may  assure  yourself  that  it  will 
only  be  lest  my  going  might  excite  suspicion  of  your  re 
treat.  Farewell  then!  be  patient,  and  submit  to  temporary 
inconveniences.  The  prophet  is  your  friend,  and  oh  !  may 
Cod  be  so  too  !" 

"  Farewell  !'?  he  said  ;  and  he  pressed  her  hand  to  his 
burning  lips,  and  followed  Tonnaleuka  out  of  the  apart 
ment. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  frost}'  night.  Ten  thousand 
fiery  stars  sparkled  in  the  heavens,  and  the  pure  cold  snow 
glittered  on  the  earth.  The  queen  of  night  coursed,  in  all 
bcr  splendor,  steadily  and  majestically  along  the  smooth 
blue  star-studded  arch  that  overcanopied  the  sober  and  che 
quered  horizon  of  mountains  and  vales,  clothed  in  a  parti 
colored  covering  of  dark  trees,  and  silvery  shining  snow 
that  lav  extended  beneath.  The  river?  and  rivulets  were 


1HE     \\1JJ.IKKNKSS.  1  If 

all  fro /en  as  hard  as  iron,  and  the  movements  of  every  ter- 
H'^trial  object  seemed  to  he  arrested,  except  lite  shadows  of 

es,  and  rock",  and  mousrtains,  which  lliited  around  as 
Charles  and  his  conductor  wen!  forward,  as  if  to  yield  them 
wav.  or  pav  them  respect  as  'hey  passed  hy. 

Toniialeuka  led  the  way.  and  Charles  followed  in  medi 
tative  silence.  They  kepi  nearly  northward,  alonir  the  right 
hank  of  Turtle  Creek.  The  stream  soon  hecame  enclosed 
hi-lwcen  hiii'h.  moun!a.i::s,  and  thev  crossed  on  the  ice  to  its 
left  hank.  :iion^  which  tlie\'  proceeded  about  hall'  a  mile  : 
when  sudd-'idv  lakin^  a  path  that  led  in  an  easterly  direc 
tion  up  a  hitrh  hill.  On  if,nnin;j-  its  top.  they  kept  alon^the 
rid<>r  which  it  1'ormed.  still  in  an  easterly  course,  for  half  a 
mile  lurther.  They  then  struck  suddenly  to  the  left,  and 
de^cend'-d  into  a  deep  valley,  at.  the  bottom  gf  which  they 
crossed  a  small  run.  near  a  place  where  it  was  almost  over 
arched  bv  a  h  utre  rock,  which  formed  the  rujjged  juuvint; 
face  of  the  opposing  ridire.  They  passed  up  the  bank  of 
this  stream  underneath  the  fearful  arch,  1o  which  the  solemn 
ra\  s  of  the  moon  now  imparted  an  aspect  impressively 
awful,  for  about  two  hundred  yards,  to  a  place  where  the 
eontinuilv  of  the  rock  became  interrupted  by  a  deep  ra\ine. 
into  which  thev  turned.  For  a  few  moments  they  ascended 
a  small  path,  until  about  half  way  up  the  left  side  of  this 
ravine,  when  tiiey  came  to  a  larire  rock,  which  seemed  to 
obstruct  their  further  progress. 

Here  the  prophet  spoke  to  Charles  for  the  first  lime 
-since  they  had  left,  Fra/ier's. 

'•  iSOw,  my  son/'  said  he,  ''you  will  see  my  favorite  re 
treat  when  1  wish  for  concealment.  There  an-  only  two 
individuals,  besides  myself,  who  know  ii,  and  in  these  1  can 
repose  implicit  reliance.  You  will  be  the  third  :  conse 
quently  the  confidence  1  ha\e  in  you  cannot  be  small:  and 
the  security  you  will  here  eujov  from  either  French  or  In 
dians,  will  be  as  jrreat  as  even  your  Maria  could  desire. 
\\  ithin  is  die  lodging  1  am  about  to  alford  you,  till  you 
can  leave  the  \\  ilderness  in  safety.  its  entrance,  except 
by  those  who  already  know  it,  can  only  be  found  bv  a 
miracle." 

So  saving,  Tomnleuka  caujjht  hold  of  a  branch  of  a  small 


18  TH£     WILDERNESS. 

pine  tree,  that  -reined  u»  he  growing  in  the  an<rle  formed  by 
the  rock  and  tlr1  side  ot"  tlie  acclivity,  and  pulling  it  down 
ward,  he  separated  the  upper  Side  of  the  root  some  distance 
from  the  earth,  lie  let  iro  his  hold,  and  the  tree  remained 
in  this  posture. 

'•Follow  me!"  said  Tonnaleuka,  as  he  ascended  to  the 
gap,  which  this  separation  of  thp  tree  from  the  earth  had 
occasioned,  into  which  he  lowered  himself  by  a  tliffht  often 
or  twelve  rniwed  stone  steps,  until  he.  came  to  a  kind  of 
landing  place,  or  lohliv.  hayintr  a  smooth  earthen  bottom. 

"Remain  "here  a  few  minutes,  until  I  strike  a  liyh?,''  said 
Tonnaleuka.  and  he  proceeded  into  a.  dark  passage,  in  what 
direction  Charles  could  not  tell,  but  of  considerable  length, 
he  conjectured,  from  the  distance  at  which  he  soon  heard 
the  sound  of  Uis  retiring-  footsteps,  while  he  himself  remain 
ed  awkwardly  enough,  watching  the,  oblique  rays  of  the 
moon,  that  with  jrreat  effort  cast  down  a  very  feeble  liirht 
to  where  he  stood.  In  a  short  time,  however,  he  perceived 
the  sjlanrinij  of  li>rht  at  a  distance  in  the  subterranean  pas 
sage,  and  Tonnaleuka  soon  returned  with  a  flaming  taper. 

'•  My  son,"  said  he.  when  he  approached.  ••  draw  the 
rope  which  winds  through  that  pulley." 

Charles  did  so,  and  the  root  of  the  tree  instantly  returriin<r 
to  its  place,  closed  up  the  aperture  by  which  they  had  en 
tered,  and  the  ravs  of  the  moon  were  no  longer  visible. 

The  prophet  now  led  the  wav  through  a  lonsr,  narrow, 
and  rather  damp  passage,  which  at  length  brought  them 
into  a  larsje,  drv.  and  airv  chamber,  with  a  comfortable  floor 
somewhat  more  elevated  than  the  passage.  In  an  angle  of 
this  apartment,  to  the  left  of  its  entrance,  the  embers  of  a 
wood  tire  not  quite  extinguished  were  seen,  on  a  convenient 
hearth,  which  possessed  a  species  of  funnel  that  carried 
away  the  smoke  bv  an  outlet,  which  Charles  afterwards 
discovered  to  be  into  another  ravine,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  ridge  from  that  on  which  they  had  entered. 

The  furniture  was  simple  and  scanty,  comprising  no  ar 
ticles  but  such  as  were  of  prime  necessity  for  the  comfort  oi 
one,  or  at  most  two  individuals.  There  was  indeed  a  bed 
and  bedding,  not  much  inferior  to  some  of  those  possesssd 
by  Gilbert  Frazier.  A  plain  table,  two  or  three  chairs,  a 


THK     WTLDERNKSS.  19 

small  stool,  a  large  chest,  a  cupboard,  two  or  three  shelves, 
with  scarcely  any  cooking  utensils,  constituted  the  remain 
der  o!'  what  Charles  Adderlv  now  observed  in  this  subter 
ranean  hermitage. 

'•Sit  down,  my  son,''  said  Tonnaleiika  ;  "you  are  now 
in  my  abode.  1  must  warm  it.  The  cheering  ilame  shall 
blaze  forth  in  a  few  minutes." 

lie  withdrew  into  the  passage,  but  soon  returned  with 
several  billets  of  wood  on  his  arm,  which,  to  the  great  com 
fort  and  exhilaration  of  Charles,  who  had  begun  to  feel 
rather  discontented,  chilly,  and  vaporish  will)  his  situation, 
soon  began  to  crackle  from1  the  impulse  of  the  glowing  ele 
ment,  and  to  enliven  the  chamber  with  its  animating  rays. 

'•  M\  son,  you  perhaps  need  refreshment,"  said  the  pro 
phet.  "  1  shall  supply  you — for  within  this  cavern  there  is 
enouirh  for  all  present  wants." 

"  Father,  I  require  none,"  said  Charles,  "but  I  acknow 
ledge  that  1  need  repose,  for  my  mind  is  overpowered  with 
sadness." 

"And  what  grieve  you  for?"  asked  the  prophet.  "Is  it 
because  you  are,  not  now  a  prisoner  in  Le  Boeuf  or  Du 
IJuesne  .'  Or  is  it,  because  you  are  not  now  in  Gilbert 
Frazier's.  exposed  to  the  risk  of  being  again  captured  and 
exposed  to  the  vengeance  of  your  enemies  ?  Are  you  sad, 
my  son.  because  \  on  are  safe.'  If  so.  you  are  he-re  without 
restraint,  and  may  rush  again  into  danger,  if  it  will  yive  you 
pleasure. 

••  But,  my  son.  you  have  promised  to  be  ruled  by  me, 
and  it  is  the  wish  of  her  whom  you  love  that  you  should 
be  so.  Will  you  vex  her  by  your  imprudence,  by  your 
breach  of  word  I  Know  you  not,  that  your  enemies  are 
powerful  and  numerous  in  the  country;  and  if  you  should 
!'ii!  again  into  their  bands,  think  you  tint  they  would  treat 
you  with  indulgence  ?  No,  my  son — be  wise,  render  your 
self  content  here  tor  a  few  weeks.  You  will  want,  for  no 
thing  necessary  to  human  lite.  Food,  drink,  a  bed  to  lie 
on,  and  books  to  read,  you  shall  have  as  liberally  as  the 
\\  ilderuess  can  alford.  Bu'  for  your  own  sake,  and  for  the 
sake  of  one  still  more  beloved,  I  request  you  to  reconcile 
yourself  to  a  temporary  privation  of  her  society,  and  of  the 
external  world. 


20  THE     WILDERNESS. 

u  My  son,  I  offer  you  food — I  wish  you  to  partake  of  it; 
but  if  you  prefer  retiring  to  rest,  go,  and  may  the  blessing 
of  l)i"  Great  Father  accompany  you  !" 

Charles  preferred  retiring,  and  requested  the  prophet  to 
excuse  his  apparent  dissatisfaction  with  his  residence,  as  lie 
in  reality  felt  both  mind  and  body  overcast  and  indisposed. 
To-morrow,  he  hoped,  he  should  recover  the  serenity  of  his 
mind,  and  be  able  to  express,  with  cheerfulness  and  cordi 
ality,  the  obligations  he  owed  him  as  his  kind  deliverer. 

"  Talk  not  of  obligations,  my  son,"  said  the  prophet. 
"  My  duties  are  my  obligations,  and  for  performing  them,  ] 
require  no  thanks.  Ah  !  my  son,  how  miserable  I  should 
have  long  felt  a  life,  whose-  misfortunes  have  been  severer 
than  any  you  have  yet  experienced,  had  it  not  been,  that 
amonjr  my  red  brethren  I  have  often  found  the  means  of 
doino-  (rood  !  But  your  mind  is  oppressed  ;  repose,  I  hope, 
will  relieve  yon.  I  will  show  you  where  to  seek  it." 

He  took  up  the  light,  and  conducting  Charles  a  lew  yards 
into  the  passage  through  which  they  had  before;  passed, 
turned  to  the  ri<rht  into  a  small  recess,  much  more  comfort 
able  and  clean  in  its  appearance  than  the  lar<re  apartment. 
Here  he  beheld  a  bed  prepared  for  his  reception,  with  a 
small  table  and  a  chair,  both  exhibiting  very  rude  workman 
ship,  but  suitable  enough  for  the  place,  and  the  purposes 
intended  by  them. 

'['he  prophet  having  pronounced  a  short  benediction  upon 
his  o-uest,  retired,  and  Charles  was  about  throwing  himself 
into  bed,  when  he  perceived,  beneath  the  bedclothes,  a  letter 
ad  tressed  to  himself.  He  opened  it.  and  seeing  that  it  was 
from  Maria,  with  feelings  of  intense  emotion,  he  read  a-. 
follows : 

"  Dear  Charles, 

"  My  persuading  you  to  submit,  at  this  time,  to  a  resi 
dence  in  a  dark  subterraneous  cell,  is  a  proof  how  anxious 
I  am  for  your  safety.  You  will,  no  doubt,  feel  your  situa 
tion  lonely  and  disagreeable  ;  but  I  hope  the  necessity  for 
it  will  not  be  of  long  continuance  ;  and,  in  the  meanwhile, 
in  order  to  relieve  its  lediousness  as  much  as  possible,  I 
shall  send  you  a  supply  of  such  books  as  I  possess,  best 


11IK    WILDERXF-SS  2\ 

uuted  lor  your  entertainment.  You  may  be  assured,  that 
our  family  will  let  you  want  for  nothing  in  their  power  to 
itl'ord  you  comfort. 

"Oh,  Charles!  how  little  are  the  men  and  women  of  so 
ciety  aware  of  the  dangers  and  calamities  that  often  visit  the 
most  remote  and  secluded  condition  !  How  have  their  phi 
losophers  and  their  poets  praised,  in  strains  of  enthusiasm 
and  rapture,  the  virtue,  the  tranquillity,  and  the  happiness, 
to  he  found  in  retirement !  Ah  !  they  appear  to  forget  that 
human  passions,  and  therefore  human  crimes  and  miseries, 
arc  ever,  in  such  places,  more  violent  and  fierce,  because 
more  unrestrained  and  unmodified  by  the  salutary  customs 
and  institutions  of  society  ! 

"  But,  Charles,  the  object  of  my  writing  to  yon,  is  to 
encourage  you  to  an  exertion  of  patience  in  your  present 
solitude,  and  not  to  magnify  the  evils  to  which  it  is  ex 
posed,  by  making  contrasts,  for  which  my  inexperience 
renders  me  incompetent. 

"  But  these  times  of  calamity,  1  trust,  will  not  always 
last.  Providence  will  yet.  moderate  the  storm,  and  grant 
this  Wilderness  a  restoration  of  that  calm  which  it  once 
enjoyed.  TiH  then,  let  us  shelter  ourselves  as  much  as 
possible  from  the  fury  of  the  times,  ami  be  content  with 
privations,  if  we  can  only  thereby  secure  safety.  I  am 
aware  that  this  advice  will  not  be  relished  by  your  adven 
turous  spirit ;  but  it  is  because  i  dread  that  spirit,  fearless 
and  rash  as  1  know  it  to  be,  leading  you  into  fresh  dangers, 
that  I  am  so  solicitous  for  your  present  confinement.  If  it 
will  in  any  degree  enable  you  to  support  that  confinement, 
1  have  here  no  hesitation  to  repeat  the  assurance,  which 
you  already  have,  of  the  unalterable  nature  of  my  affection 
for  you. 

••  Let  me  be  assured,  in  return,  that  you  will  bear  your 
present  lot  without  repining,  and  you  will  contribute  much 
to  my  (vise  of  mind  ; — and,  that  heaven  may  protect  you, 
and  hasten  over  these  times  of  danger  and  distress,  is  the 

fervent  nraver  oi'vour  ,. 

MAUIA. 

"  Yes  !"  thought  Charles,  when  he  had  finished  this  letter, 
"  I  am  happv.  Ah'  what  can  make  me  otherwise,  when  T 


22  THE     WILDERNESS. 

possess  the  affections,  the  sweet,  the  pure,  the  tender,  the 
faithful  affections  of  si  ch  a  hnely  being!  Oh,  heaven!  it 
would  indeed  be  criminal  to  repine  at  thy  dispensations, 
when  thou  bast  ji  ran  ted  me  this!  This  is  ample  remune 
ration  for  all  suileriiio:-  —  tbi<  is  balm  for  e-.  cry  wound.  O, 
thou  gi  od  Providence,  ;hai  hast  thus  granted  me  the  first, 
wish  <f  my  bean,  make  me  trnl\  gratelul  lor  such  a  conso 
lation,  such  a  blessing,  amidst  my  m h fortunes  !  "Yes,  I 
\\  i  1  assure  the  dear  ma  den  that  1  will  not  repine — 1  will 
asH  r  •  her  ihat  1  am  happy,  and  ihat  she  has  ma.de  me  so  !" 

'i  h-  u  eight  and  'u  eariness  upon  his  spirhs,  of  which  he 
had  ceir  j  nir.ed  so  much  to  Tonnaleuka,  \\ere  now  trone.  ; 
and.  instead  el  anxionsh  wishing  to  rt  be  e  Ins  mind  ol  the 
il.<  i;;J:  s  i  at  en  \\did  upon  i:.  le  n>  w  \\irh.d  to  indulge 
th  in.  and  .o  prolong,  bv  a  ]  rotrac:ed  vvakefulness,  the  do 
hgli  :ul  s»  lisa. ii. us  \\hich  hey  alieided  bun. 

li  he  bad  possessed  \vp:m<j  materials,  a  Blowing  reply,  as 
warm  ;  s  1  ve  ui  <!  gratitude  could  d.cialc,  M  o1  !;i  soon  ha-.e 
extended  i.sell.  in  I. lack  and  \\lnie.  upon  tin1  sable  befoi'e 
him.  15n;  this  p'lta-ing  spicia.c'e  he  could  noi  enjoy  until 
the  ii!  xi  moiTiUiir,  v.  nbout  interruptiiii;' TonnuJC'iika  enber 
in  his  de\  utieis  or  iiis  repose,  for  he  reasonably  (Mioi.gh 
li .  ;!:)>  iine  ;  ;.•  I  \\  as  <  n^:-o-i  <j  in  oiie 

lie  had,  the/eiore,  no;hmg  lor  ii  bih  to  iinrr\  inlo 
<  11  :>:-iei  p  as  la.sl  as  p>ossibie,  in  order  to  ap.nihdate 
bat  must  elapse  before  he  c<  ud  enjoy  the  felicity 
mil  liis  soui  iu  a  leu:  r  to  l;is  beloved. 


THK     WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Tis  love  like  this,  in  yonnsi  and  faithful  hearts, 
The  nearest  bliss  to  heaven  on  earth  imparts: 
For  holy,  sweet,  and  lull,  without  alloy, 
Nought  but  tin:  Tear  of  parting,  to  annoy. 
It' time  would  only  cease  his  onward  lliirht, 
Xor  wintr  away  those  moments  of  delight, 
When  mutual  happiness  eac.h  tlirob  attunes, 
And  heart  with  heart,  and  soul  with  soul  communes, 
When  fearless  joy  wafts  free  o'er  passion's  wave, 
\Vilh  the  first  fed  ings  sacred  nature  crave, 
The  Kail's  dread  curse  would  threaten  then  in  vain, 
And  Paradise  would   bloom  on  earth  ajrain  ! 

WAI.TIIAM. 

TOXXALEUKA  was  surprised  in  the  morning'  to  see  Charles 
in  such  <nmd  spirits,  although  he  at.  once  conjectured  the 
cause,  for  he  had  himself  been  the  hearer  of  Maria's  letter, 
and  had  deposited  it  where  it  had  heen  found. 

"  You  have1  benefittcd  much  from  your  night's  repose,  I 
perceive,  my  sou,"  said  the  prophet. 

"  Yes,  father,"  replied  Charles,  -'I  am  much  better  than 
I  was  last  niirht.  1'ut.  father,  could  you  oblige  me  with 
materials  for  writing?" 

"  I  can,  my  son.  It  will  he  a  pleasant  amusement  for 
you.  1  am  olad  YOU  desire.  Bv  readme,-  and  writini>-,  ] 
trust  you  will  he  able  to  spend  your  time  here  without  feel- 
in  o-  it  tedious  and  uncomfrotable." 

4'  1  shall  trv  to  do  so,  father,"  replied  Charles,  who  hav 
ing  possessed  himself  with  pen,  ink  and  paper,  retired  with 
a  lio-ht  heart  to  his  bed-chamber,  to  wrile  his  epistle." 

1   will    not  insert  this  elaborate  address  of  the   enamored 
Charles  !o  his  hi 'loved  in  these  memoirs,  because,  although 
sentiment  \vhich  \\  ;;s  no!  the  sincere  dic- 
nd    for  the  sincerity  of  which    .Maria  did 
credit,  yet    I    am  a\vare    that  there    is  not 
nlv  but  would    consider   it   absolute    bom- 

Ireiiueiitlv  impossible   lor  enthusiastic 
i  .          i 


24  THK    WILDERNESS. 

mistress  of    their   hearts,  the   fervors  of    their   passion,  to 

\vrile  common  sense,  at  least  what  common  readers  can  re 
ceive  as  such  :  for,  like  all  other  classes  and  communities 
of  men,  lover.s  have  a  technical  language  of  their  own,  to 
themselves  the  prettiest,  and  sweetest,  perhaps,  of  all  lan 
guages;  lr.it  certainly  the  least  rational  and  intelligible  to 
ihe  rest  of  the  world. 

Charles  havintr  finished  his  letter,  put  it  into  the  hands  of 
the  prophet  who  promised  thatit  shoud  be  conveyed  to  Maria 
that  very  day. 

"  \Viih  respect  to  your  servant's  safety,  my  son,''  said  the 
prophet,  "I  have  thought  it  necessary  that  something  should 
also  be  done  ;  for  if  left  long  to  himself  so  near  his  enemies, 
his  rashness  will  inevitably  expose  him  to  the  risk  of  beingf 
recaptured." 

"Father,"  replied  Charles,  "the  certainty  of  iiis  safe'y 
would  indeed  give  me  pleasure,  and  1  shall  be  thankful  for 
whatever  your  wisdom  may  think,  proper  to  do  for  him." 

"It  may  be,"  .-aid  the  prophet,  "that  he  will  he  unwilling 
to  obey  my  directions.  \  our  authority  maybe  necessary 
to  induce  him  thereto.  Write  to  him  thai  it  is  your  will  lie 
should  obey  me,  and  1  will  provide  for  his  safety.  I  cannot 
bring  him  here  to  conceal  him,  or  to  receive  your  command.?, 
because  I  wish  not  the  secret  of  this  cavern  to  be  known  to 
one  of  his  careless  and  unguarded  disposition." 

"You  are  prudent,  father,"'  replied  Charles,  "  and  yon  are 
rijrht.  1  shall  write  to  Peter,  that  in  obeying  you  he  onevs 
me,  and  that  on  pain  of  my  displeasure,  he  must  attend  ;o 
your  directions." 

Charles  wrote  accordingly,  and  shortly  afterwards  Tonna- 
ler.ka  set  out  on  a  visit  to  Frazier's.  In  order  to  prevent  any 
of  Charles'  enemies  from  suspecting,  on  account  of  the  ter 
mination  of  the  tracks  of  footsteps  in  the  sno\\  at  the  foot  of 
Pine  tree,  that  there  was  any  lurking-place  near  it.  he  con 
tinued  to  extend  these  tracks  onwards  quite  over  the  ridge, 
by  now  taking  a  circuitous  route  to  Frazier's. 

Having  delivered  Maria's  letter,  he  took  Paddy  Fra/ier 
aside  and  explained  to  him  his  views  with  respect  to  Peter 
McFall. 

'••  I  have  myself  been  a  little  alarmed  on  this  sjibjcrt,"  ob- 
-f-rved  Paddy,  "  lost  th;it  f'Hlow's  loner  tnnfue  -hould  ^ome 


THE     WILDF.RNESi.  40 

'.inie  or  other  betray  to  the  French  the  whole  a  flair  of  Mr. 
Adderly's  rescue.  His  discovering  on  himself  only  would 
be  of  little  consequence,  as  the  world  could  jog  on  pretty 
\veii  without  him;  and  besides  you  know  it  would  be  alto 
gether  his  own  business — though  I  don't  wish  the  blockhead 

_ 

to  get  into  a  scrape  either,  in  short,  father, I  agree  with  you 
that,  for  the  general  good,  we  must  get  him  out  of  the  way 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Have  you  not  certain  trading  concerns  at  Gist's  planta 
tion,  on  pretence  of  managing  which  we  could  send  him 
there  >'"  asked  Tonnaleuka. 

"  It  is  a  good  thought,  father  ;"  replied  Paddy,  "  I  have  a 
package  of  otter  and  minx  skins,  that  I  wish  immediately 
conveyed  to  Gists/'  Father,  I  think  we  can  dispatch  him 
with  them  ;  nay,  [  shall  go  with  him  every  yard  myself,  and 
iix  mutters  so  with  Gist  as  to  have  our  loose-tongued  Irish 
man  detained  there  for  a  few  months  at  any  rate,  by  which 
time  it  may  please  fortune  to  tnrnup  something  for  our  benefit. 

This  scheme  was  agreed  upon,  and  Pe'.er  was  summoned 
before  Tonnalenka. 

'•  My  son,''  said  the  prophet,  "  here  is  a  letter  requiring 
yon  to  perform  some  services  I  have  in  view  for  you.  Will 
you  have  any  objection?'' 

"  Now,  by  the  powers  !  prophet,"  replied  Peter,  "  isn't  that 
a  strange  question  ?  don't  you  see  my  master  bids  me — och  ! 
may  the  blessing  of  "  Bonna-Margary"  be  on  him  !  But, 
prophet,  may  I  make  free  to  ask  yon  just  where  you  have 
stuffed  my  poor  master  out  of  the  way?  for  sure  would'nt 
Peter  attend  to  him  and  all  his  errands,  if  it  should  be  run 
ning  in  and  out  of  the  devil's  dungeon,  or  even  a  catamount's 
den  in  this  Wilderness." 

"  I  know  your  regard  for  your  master,"  observed  the  pro 
phet,  and  hence  it  is  that  I  am  persuaded  yon  will  cheerfully 
undertake  the  performance  of  an  errand  on  which  he  wishes 
you  immediately  to  proceed.  As  to  your  master's  present 
residence,  my  son,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  reveal  it.  But  1 
may  assure;  that  lie  is  quite,  comfortable  and  safe." 

"Area,  now,  dear  prophet!  but  yon  know  every  thing. 
\  on  know  where  mv  master  is.  Now,  if  you  would  only 
tell  me.  so  that  I  might  set  mv  eye  again  on  him  :  who 


2  THE    WII.DKKXKSS. 

knows  botheration  to  it!  if  we  couldn't  dash  our  brains'  to 
gether,  and  find  out  some  method — never  fear  us  for  that,  dear 
prophet  ! — of  making  our  way  to  swate  Philadelphy  again, 
God  blesss  her  !  but  1  wish  my  master  and  myself  were 
once  more  snug  under  the  wooden  roof  of  her  long  beef 
market,  my  jewel  !" 

"But,  my  son,"  observed  Tonnaleuka,  "  on  your  prest  nt 
errand  Pnddy  here  will  accompany  you,  and  you  will  assist 
him  as  your  master  desires,  in  his  trading  designs.  Will  you 
start  to-morrow,  and  Paddy  will  have  matters  prepared  for 
your  journey  .'" 

"This  moment,  your  honor — if  I  may  call  a  prophet,  your 
honor — Och  !  now,  any  moment,  I'll  obey  my  masters  or 
ders — but  where  must  I  go  ?'' 

"  Paddv  will  give  you  every  information,"  said  Tonna 
leuka.  Follow  his  directions,  and  expect  my  blessing  and 
your  master's  approbation." 

"  By  the  jingo  !"  cried  Peter,  two  excellent  things  these, 
for  a  poor  fellow  like  me.  Arrah,  now  master,  be  nisy — 
and  just  tip  a  little  bit  of  a  prayer,  and  a  blessing  with  it, 
for  me,  every  night.  Priest  Balgruddery, — oh,  the  Virgin 
bless  him  ! — u-ed  to  do  so.  It.  saved  poor  Peter  a  deal  of 
trouble  when  he  was  in  Ireland,  your  reverence  :  and  if  you'll 
just  do  the  surne  for  me  in  this  wild  country,  Och!  how  I'll 
skip  over  it  any  where  your  majesty  and  my  master  please 
to  send  me." 

"  111  remember  you  in  my  orisons."  replied  the  prophet. 
"  But  you  must  now  for  some  lime  follow  Paddy's  directions." 
So  saying,  Tonnaleuka  departed. 

"  Horses  horns  ! — he'll  remember  me  in  his  horses  horns  ! 
What  the  devil  is  that  Paddy  ?  If  horses  have  horns  in  this 
country,  by  the  great  Columb  !  but  it's  more  than  they  have 
in  Ireland,  my  boy." 

"  He  said  his  orisons,  which  is  Indian  for  saying  mass," 
returned  Paddy.  It  is  only  asses  and  stags  that  have  horns 
in  this  country.  But  Peter,  we  must  be  off  by  sunrise  to 
morrow.  I  have  a  parcel  of  peltrv  and  furs  you  must  assist 
me  to  take  to  Gist's  plantation.  It  is  only  about  a  hundred 
miles  up  the  river.  Your  master  wishes  you  to  remain  there, 
where  he  intends  you  shall  see  him.  probablv  in  a  couple  of 
months." 


THK     W1LDKRNESP.  27 

"  See  him  in  a  couple  of  months  !"  exclaimed  Peter.  Why, 
-ure  now,  he  may  he  in  heaven  before  that  time,  and  Peter 
in  puroatory,  and  I  may  never  see  him  at  all — " 

"  Very  likely."  replied  his  consoling  companion  ;  or  might 
it  not  just  as  readily  happen  that  you  should  hoth  go  to  pur 
lin  to  ry  together  ?" 

l>  My  my  faith,"  said  Peter,  "and  sure  that's  just  what  I 
would  like.  But  my  master  has  never  a  purgatory  to  go  to. 
Why.  did'nt  you  know  he's  a  Protestant,  my  jewel?" 

"  And  that  will  save  you  from  the  devil's  flail,  you  think," 
said  Paddy.  "  Dont  they  ?ay  they  thrash  poor  sinners  in 
that  purging  hole  of  yours,  till  their  sins  are  beat  outof  them?" 

"  Och,  Paddy,"  cried  Peter,  "  none  of  your  jeers  now — 
for  its  only  when  we  dont't  pay  the  priest  well  enough  to 
say  mass  for  our  souls,  heaven  bless  them  !  that  the  devil 
thrashes  them  :  but  it's  for  their  good  after  all,  as  my  mother 
used  to  say.'' 

"  Well,  Peter,  it  may  be  so;  we'll  not  dispute  about  this 
matter,  just  because  we  know  nothing  about  it.  Only  you 
need  not  expect  to  meet  your  master  at  either  Gist's  or  pur 
gatory,  lor  two  months  at  least.  So  you  must  be  content  to 
wait  for  him  at  whichever  of  the  two  places  you  first  rind 
yourself.  But  take  care,  that  in  either  place  you  mention  any 
thing  about  our  rcscuinir  him  from  the  French.  It  will  do 
Ciist  no  good  to  hoar  it,  and  as  to  the  devil  you  may  meet 
with  in  purgatory,  he  must  know  nlieadv  all  about  it.  from 
the  clatteriiii:  of  the  half  dozen  Frenchmen  we  sent  then*.'' 

Peter  promised  to  attend  to  this  salutary  caution  ;  and 
every  thing  heinu  that  eveiiin^  prepared  f<;r  their  journey, 
they  set  forwaid  with  the  dawn  the  next  morning1  for  (list's 
habitation,  where  Paddy  left  his  companion  to  fall  in  love  with 
our  of  (list's  daughter,  which  he  swore  !>y  Si.  Patrick  he 
\\ould,  if  he  were  obliged  to  remain  their  only  the  half  of 
ihi'  time:  prescribed  to  him.  I  have  been  actually  informed 
that  Peter  did,  in  this  instance  liicrally  keep  his  oath,  and 
permitted  the  charms  of  the  fair  Ksihcr  (Ji>t  entirely  to 
obliterate  from  his  recollection  those  of  Molly  M\\icklr. 
So  much,  dear  reader,  for  the  constancy  of  man  ! 

Paddy  returned  to  his  father's,  after  little  more  than  a 
week's  absence,  with  his  mind  cntirdv  at  rase.  ;\s  to  the 


•>»  1HK     \\II.DKR\K8S. 

present  security  of  both  Charles  Adderly  and  his  man  Peter 
from  the  power  of  the  French.  He  had,  indeed,  in  a  short 
time  afterwards,  reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  Peter's 
removal ;  for  the  French  had  begun  to  entertain  some  suspi 
cion  as  to  the  fate  of  Charles's  escort,  and  had  employed  a 
number  of  Indians  to  range  the  whole  country  in  search  of 
information  concerning  them.  Some  of  the  remains  of  the 
French  soldiers  were  at  length  found,  very  much  mangled 
and  torn  by  wild  beasts,  but  still  in  a  condition  to  admit  of 
their  being  identified.  Suspicion  was  by  Paddy's  sly  man 
agement,  thrown  upon  some  of  the  Delaware  Indians'  who 
were  supposed  still  to  harbor  a  secret  partiality  for  Charles 
Adderiv  and  the  English  interest.  It  was  even  believed, 
that  Charles  was  yet  secreted  among  them.  Their  chiefs 
were  in  consequence  summoned  to  Tort  Uu  Quesne  to  under 
go  an  investigation,  and  answer  to  charges  founded  on  these 
surmises  before  the  French  commandant. 

They  attended  cheerfully  and  replied  to  ail  questions  with 
such  promptitude,  and  freedom  from  embarrassment,  that 
St.  Pierre,  persuaded  of  their  innocence  was  about  to  dis 
miss  them,  when  Svvanlamis,  their  king,  addressed  him  : 

"Father!  you  called  us  here  to  answer  an  accusation  of 
treachery  and  murder.  Father !  we  abhor  treachery,  and 
we  never  slay  those  with  whom  we  are  at  amity.  We  first 
return  the  wampum  of  peace,  we  break  the  calumet,  and  we 
sing  the  war-song  in  public,  ere  we  abrogate  treaties.  Have 
we  done  these  tilings  towards  vou  ?  It  is  injurious,  there 
fore,  to  say  that  we  killed  your  people  at  tin;  time  you  were 
our  brothers,  and  when  we  professed  friendship  for  you. 
Father!  it  was  wicked  in  yon  to  suspect  us.  It  shows  you 
could  do  such  things  yourselves,  if  your  occasions  required 
them. 

"Father!  you  must,  think  better  of  us,  and  not,  judge  of 
our  integrity  by  your  own,  if  yon  wish  to  preserve  our  friend 
ship'  The  English  wete  more  manly  than  you.  They  once 
charged  us  with  coolness,  but  never  with  treachery;  tor  they 
knew  th nt.  before  we  should  injure  them  we  would  warn 
them  and  return  their  wampum.  Shingiss  thought,  himself 
hound  to  them,  and  he  died  lighting  for  them. 

"  Father  !  we  will  do  so  for  you,  if  yon  act  genaronslv.      If 


FHK    WILDEKXKSS.  '-i9 

not,  we  will  remove  afar  oil'  to  the  English  lands  southward, 
and  lift  the  hatchet  against  yon. 

"  What  we  want  yon  now  to  do,  father,  is,  to  tell  all  the 
tribes  that  we  are  innocent — that  we  scorn  treachery,  and 
trial  yon  are  sorry  for  having  suspected  us.  We  will  then 
forgive  .your  rashness,  and  smoke  with  yon  as  if  this  matter 
h  id  not  happened.  We  ran  resent  vengefully,  but  we  can 
also  forgive  readily.  Father,  choose  ye!" 

St.  Pierre,  partly  from  motives  of  policy,  and  partly  from 
a  sentiment  of  generosity  towards  men  whose  feelings  he 
thought  it  was  hut  just  to  soothe  by  some  concession,  re 
plied — 

li  My  brother — that  your  people  have  been  wrongfully 
.  ••.••used  of  this  deed.  I  believe.  But  the  accusation  did  not 
originate  with  me.  It  has  been  circulated  by  many  mouths; 
and  I  thought  it  was  your  due  to  afford  you  this  opportunity, 
if  you  were  innocent,  to  justify  yourselves  to  all  men.  Iain 
glad  you  have  been  able  to  do  so,  and  1  hope  that  every  one 
'vill  lie  as  well  satisfied  as  I  am. 

'•  Brother — I  will  inform  all  our  allies  that  yon  are  inno- 
rent  ;  and,  for  the  trouble  I  have  given  yon,  I  shall  order 
•*  on  a  present  of  rum  and  some  blankets." 

The  Indians,  perfrtly  satisfied  with  this  result,  left  the 
L'lrrison  in  great  good  humor  with  their  allies. 

The  search  after  Charles  and  JV'ter  M-Fall,  whose  escape 
MOIII  I,e  Bci'uf  was,  soon  after  it.  took  place,  known  at  I)n 
Que.-ne.  was  carried  on  for  some  lime,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  both  forts,  to  no  purpose.  It,  waa  abandoned  as  fruitless  ; 
-Mid  Maria  began  to  feel  quite  at  ea<e  in  respect  to  her  lover's 
security. 

lie  had  written  to  her  often,  and  in  every  letter  pressingly 
solicited  a  vi:-it  from  her.  "  ()  my  love  !  "  he  would  say,  "  let 
\our  presence  but  for  once  bless  the  cell  to  which  you  have 
•ondemned  me — it  will  then  be  endeared  to  me,  and  i  shall 
feel  happy  ! 

At,  length,  as  soon  as  she  was  assured  that  all  inquiry  alter 
iiim  was  relinquished  by  his  enemies,  she  yielded  to  his  re- 
que.^t,  and  accompanied  the  prophet  to  his  cavern.  Charles 
was  sitting  beside  a  tolerably  comfortable  lire,  with  his  head 
reclined  upon  the  table,  meditating  upon  her  when  she  en- 


30  TUB    WILDKKNKSS. 

tered.  The  prophet  had  gone  on,  as  was  his  usual  custom 
during1  a  time  of  snow,  to  continue  the  tracks  to  the  other 
side  of  the  ridge,  ur.til  they  joined  a  frequented  Indian  path 
ahout  hall' a  mile  distant.  She,  therefore,  entered  her  lover's 
apartment  alone,  and  her  light  footsteps  along  the  passage  had 
not  aroused  him  from  his  meditations. 

"Mr.  Adderly  !"  said  she.  He  looked  up,  and  scarcely 
believing  his  senses,  started  to  his  feet,  and  approached  her. 

"Ah,  Maria  !"  he  exclaimed  ;  hlessed  girl !  am  I  indeed 
so  happy  !  Have  you  come  at  last,  to  cheer  your  Charles 
amidst  the  solitude  of  his  dungeon?" 

"1.  have  ventured,"  said  she,  "  with  the  permission  ol 
Tonnaleuka,  to  indulge  you  at  tliis  time,  because  I  belieu- 
that  the  danger  of  my  visit  loading  to  your  discovery,  is 
now  much  diminished.  1  thank  Cod  that  you  have  so  long 
escaped;  for  your  enemies  were  much  inflamed  at  the 
slaughter  of  their  companions,  and,  for  some  time,  very  ar 
dent  in  their  search  after  you.  Oh.  Charles  !  it  was  well 
that  you  had  such  a  place  of  refuge.  Were  you  now  to  fall 
into  their  hands,  1  fear  that  in  their  rage,  they  would  at  once 
consign  you  to  destruction!" 

"  ]>e  not  alarmed  for  that,  my  love!"  said  he.  "I  might 
indeed  if  now  in  their  power,  he  more  strictly  confined,  and 
perhaps  more  harshly  treated  than  before  my  escape  :  hut 
they  would  have  no  plea  for  endangering  my  life.  Euro 
pean  usages,  you  are  aware,  my  too  timid  girl,  acknow 
ledge  the  right  of  every  prisoner  of  war,  except  he  lie  on 
parole,  to  regain  his  liberty  by  any  means  he  can." 

"It  maybe  so,"  she  replied;  "but  what  power  is  there 
here,  in  this  Wilderness,  to  constrain  their  compliance  with 
these  usages'  Alas  !  may  we  not  fear  that  the  example  ol 
the;  Indians  would  reconcile  them  to  the  destruction  of  an 
obnoxious  prisoner  ;  and  it  is  reported  that  they  have  late 
ly  used  horrible  threats  against  you  on  account  of  the  loss 
of  their  men." 

"  They  may  have  done  so,"  said  he;  "but,  Maria,  here 
you  know  there  is  no  danger,  and  if  you  would  only  some 
times  bless  me,  as  vou  do  now,  with  your  presence,  I  think 
I  could  become  content  to  pass  my  days  even  in  this  dun 
geon.  Oh  !  if  we  had  but  had  the  good  fortune  to  have 


THE    WILDERNESS.  31 

urited  our  fates — but  I  will  not  now  annoy  you  with  this 
subject.  Onlv — only  promise  to  visit  me  often,  and  1  shall 
hrre  lie  happy  !" 

"Alas.  Charles!"  she  replied,  "if  it  were  not  imprudent, 
I  would  feel  but  too  much  inclined  to  visit  yon.  But  1  must 
1".'  cautious,  and  indulge  neither  my  wishes  nor  your  own 
to  the  endangering  of  your  safety." 

"And  will  \  on  deny  me?"  he  cried  ;  "Oh,  surely  you  can 
not,  merelv  on  the  cold  calculation  of  some  trilling,  some 
scarcely-to-be-imagined  danger,  deny  me  the  only  enjoyment 
that  can  make  my  abode  here — that  could  make  my  exis- 
ti  nee  any  where,  tolerable.  Oh  Maria,  deprive  me  of  your 
society,  and  you  will  bid  me  at  once  despair!" 

"  15e  calm.  Charles!"  said  she.  "I  have  no  intention  to 
t  \ctude  ms  sell"  entirely  from  you  ;  but  my  visits  must  not 
be  frequent,  and  they  must  only  be  when  Tonnaleuka  per- 
iiiits — lor  it  is  he  whose  wisdom  has  hitherto  regulated  all 
mv  conduct,  better  than  1  m\  sell  could  have  done." 

"1  will   then  weary  the  prophet  with  pra\  ers."    said   he, 
lie  will  not  refuse  to  indulge  me  in  the  onlv  happiness 
-oul  is  now  capable  of  knowing." 

Tcnnaleuka."  .-he  observed,   "will  only  do  in  this  mat- 
^  hat  \oursaielv  and  my  ease   of  mind  will  thoroughly 
til.      1    wish    \  nu    to   expect,    no   more    from    him.  my 
Oh!    would  in  heaven,  that  you  were   safe   again 
\\i\\\   sour  Iriends  in  Philadelphia  !" 

••  And  banished  from  thee,  mv  Maria  !  Ah,  how  can  you 
\vis.h  to  drive  me  so  far  troni  you!  Here,  even  here,  in  this 
i  ungeon,  enclosed  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  1  feel  happier, 
1  realise  1  am  near  thee.  becau-e  1  can  olien  hear  of  thee, 
; .  :id  perhaps  sometimes  see  thee.  than  if  1  were  in  the  midst 
ii  m\  Iriends,  surrounded  with  all  the  smiles  and  the  plea- 
fiire!-  ol  social  enjoyment,  without  thee.  Alas!  Maria,  will 
t'ie  dav  never  come  when  1  shall  introduce  thee  to  those 
i  lends,  te1  that  social  hie.  v\  Inch  ibou  art  so  eminently  jorm- 
i  I  In  oinamen'  and  en|o\  '  How  would  my  Iriends  rejoice 
tu  thee!  how  weuld  society  admire  thee.  and  how  would  1 
i  vult,  and  adore  thee  !  Oh.  Maria,  it  ibou  wert  once  mine, 
:  .1  'his  beatitude  would  SI.MII  be  our  lot  !" 

"  Charles,"  said  she,  ••  sou  are  too  \isionarv,  vou  are  too 


IHi:     WILDERNESS. 

sanguine  of  what  the  world  might  think  of  me.  You  havt 
been  pleased  to  think  well  of  me  yourself,  and  hence  you 
think  every  person  else  must  do  so.  Restrain  these  flights 
of  fancy,  these  poetical  dreams  of  yours,  and  look  at  whai 
is  more  likely  to  he  the  world's  estimate.  It  mav  gaze  at 
me.  hut  so  would  it  gnze  at  any  savage  from  the  wilderness. 
for  str.mi.re  sights  I  am  told  will  always  draw  its  attention  ; 
and  as  to  vour  friends,  they  would  he  likely  to  say,  'It  w:is 
indeed  nn  unlucky  day  for  poor  Charles,  when  he?  first  wen1 
among  the  savages,  to  get  himself  and  us  entangled  and  bur- 
thened  with  this  woman,  who  is  come  amongst  us  without 
a  penny — a  rude,  uncultivated  daughter  of  the  desert.  Thr 
loss  of  the  expedition  he  conducted,  was  not  to  him,  and  to 
us,  such  a  provoking  misfortune  as  this!'  ' 

"Maria.  Maria!'"  said  Charles,  pressing  her  fingers  to  his 
lips,  "  Oh,  have  done  with  such  a  picture  !  It  will  not  he. 
it  cannot  be  so  !  oh.  I  swear  to  yon  it  will  not  !  80  beau 
tiful,  so  intelligent,  so  erentle.  so  sweet-tempered,  so  good- 
hearted,  so — " 

"  Stop,  sir!"  said  she,  with  a  smile.  "I  will  help  you  out 
with  it;  yon  were  going  to  say — so  angdic  !  so  celestial' 
so  immaculate  ! — I  declare.  Charles,  1  already  know  tin 
whole  cant,  and  you  mav  save  yourself  the  trouble  of  re 
pealing  these  elegant  phrases.  If  you  wish  me  often  to 
visit  you,  I  desire  you  will  speak  common  sense  to  me  .- 
for  I  assure  you  that,  although  I  have  been  brought  up  in  a 
country  of  savages,  I  am  not  absolutely  a  fool.'' 

"  Alas,  Maria  !  you  are  too  severe  with  me.  Oh  !  be 
lieve  me,  I  speak  truth  when  1  say,  that  my  words  have 
never  expressed  to  you  half  the  admiration  of  my  heart  Ibi 
your  beauties  and  your  virtues.  But,  forofive  me  if  I  be  too 
warm.  My  heart  is  now  open  to  von.  and,  by  heavens  !  I 
e.arfhot  help  it.  My  love!"  here  he  again  pressed  her  hand 
to  his  glowing  lips,  while,  with  a  sigh,  he  continued,  "  Oh  ' 
my  love,  little  do  you  indeed  know  what  this  heart  feels  foi 
you  !'"' 

"I  am  aware,"  said  she,  unconsciously  returning  his  sigh. 
"  that  you  love  me,  Charles  ;  and  hence  I  can  well  know 
wrhat  you  feel,  for,  alas  !  my  own  heart  feels  too  fondly — 
too  strongly — the  softness,  the  tenderness,  the  fervency  01 


THE    WILDERNESS.  33 

true  love.  Hut  we  must  chancre  the  subject.  I  came  here 
to  Clothe  your  feelings,  to  allav  your  impatience  under  con- 
finement,  and  to  encourage  you,  all  in  my  power,  to  support, 
it  ;  and  not  to  dissolve  you  into  weakness,  or  reduce  you  to 
foolishness.  I  would  have  you  to  be  resolute,  to  be  manly, 
am.  rational:  and  restrain  these  inordinate  emotions,  which 
only  the  feeble-minded  and  effeminate  will  permit  to  over- 
eoi  ic  them." 

'•  Aly  monitress  !  lovely  inspirer  of  all  my  generous  sen 
timents.  1  will  be  swayed  by  thee.  Thy  rules  of  conduct 
sh:  il  direct  me.  and  thy  suggestions  of  propriety  shall  give 
me  law.  1  will  arouse  myself  to  fortitude,  since  thou  bidst 
me.  1  will  bear,  and  1  will  try  to  bear  without  repining, 
the  delay  of  calling  thee  mine,  which  fate  has  prescribed, 
perhaps,  as  a  punishment  for  my  excessive  love.  When 
then  seest  me  getting  weak,  oh,  Maria  !  only  tell  me,  and  I 
will  be  strong  if  1  should  die  under  the  effort. " 

Here  the  approach  of  Tonnaleuka was  heard,  and  Charles 
h.id  just  let  go  her  hand,  which  ever  since  her  entrance  he 
bad  held  in  his.  when  the  prophet  appeared. 

••  IL'il  to  you.  my  children  !"  said  he.  "  1  am  glad  that, 
yo.i  can  yet  meet  in  safety.  .Hut, alas!  dangerous  times  are 
c,i  ling  upon  the  "Wilderness,  when  the  two  most  powerful 
na:  ons  1,11  earth  will  combat  here,  and  make  the  most  secret 
deaths  of  the  desert  ring  to  their  very  entrails  with  the  fury 
of  their  combats.  But.  my  children,  1  will  not  shock  you, 
now  when  you  are  happy,  with  a  description  of  the  evils 
tin  -  are  approaching,  for  1  trust  that  you  will  both  escape 
tlv  desolation  thev  will  email  upon  multitudes.  Here,  at 
le;  st,  in  the  worst  of  times.  I  expect,  there  will  be  found  by 
th<  meek  and  the  humble,  safe  shelter  from  storms  that  will 
le\fl  to  the  dust  the  mighty  and  the  renowned  !  My  chil- 
dr  n,  lie  of  good  cheer,  for  after  the  fury  of  this  storm  is 
ex  tended,  one  of  the  powerful  nations  will  yield,  and  to 
ill- «••  who  survive  here,  an  age  of  peace  and  happiness 
slvll  arrive,  bringing  davs  more  prosperous  and  bright  than 
e\,'r  before  shown  upon  the  desert.  Then  shall  come  to 
pa -s  the  saying  of  the  Hebrew  oracle,  'The  Wilderness  and 
th  solitary  place  shall  be  glad  for  them:  and  the  desert 
shall  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose.'' 


34  THE    WILDERNESS. 

"Father,"  said  Charles,  "that  the  recent  transactions  m 
this  country  will  occasion  a  war  to  break  out  betwei  n 
Great  Britain  and  France,  I  doubt  not.  Great  troubles  w  !i 
consequently  lie  here,  for  this  neighborhood  will  naturaliy 
be  one  of  the  lirst  scenes  of  the  fierce  contention — and  oh  ! 
that  this  lair,  but  tender  ilower  of  the  forest  could  be  r°'- 
moved  to  a  more  secure  soil  before  that  stormy  period  com 
mences  !  Father,  do  you  not  think  that  this  could  be  a<'- 
complished  ?  Could  she  not  accompany  me  ?" 

"  My  son,"  said  the  prophet,  interrupting  him — "thcre 
are  many  obstacles  in  the  way.  If  ever  it  be  accomplished,  ( 
it  must  "be  done  with  a  strict  regard  to  all  the  rules  of  pro 
priety.  At  least,  my  son,  it'  1  can  influence  the  actions  of 
this  child  of  my  instruction,  she  never  will  yield  for  one 
moment  to  consult  inclination  or  even  to  yield  to  tetror  ;n 
the  commission  of  any  act  that,  may  exhibit  the  faitm  ~t 
shade  of  offence  against  feminine  propriety;  and  let  me  ad-!, 
thai  1  believe  her  determination  to  act  pioperly  and  hero;  - 
ingly  in  all  cases,  and  in  defiance  of  all  inducements  to  t!  e 
contraiy,  is  as  firm  and  unalterable  as  1  could  wish  it. 

"  Therefore,  mv  son,  although  she  loves  you,  and  although 
the  horrors  of  \\ar  may  here  assail  her  even  to  desinictio  i, 
yet,  except  und<  r  circumstances  wherein  no  duly  can  i  e 
hioken,  no  principle,  either  of  religion,  honor,  or  decorum 
infringed,  }  on  mays::lnit  her  to  fly  with  you  from  the  see'  >> 
of  evils,  bul  1  am  persuaded  yen  will  solicit  in  vain. 

"  My  son,  until  the  Great  F.nher  shall  eiuide  you.  in  l!  ft 
opinions  of  men  to  be  her  protector,  which  you  are  awan, 
under  pre.-ent  circumstance^  eannot  lake  place,  it  will  I  o 
well  if  you  refrain  fiom  disturbing  her  with  solicitations  o 
which  she  cannot  yield,  since  there  would  be  impropriety 
in  her  doing  so. 

'•  Now,  my  children,  it  is  time  for  you  to  separate  again. 
Daughter,  attend  me — I  wish  to  conduct  you  home  while  a 
is  yet  day." 

"  Maria  arose,  when  her  lover,  catching  her  by  the  hand, 
exclaimed,  "Ah!  are  you  going  to  leave  me?  But  it  mu.  t 
be.  Oh,  let  me  beg,  in  the  presence  of  this  our  good  la 
ther,  that  you  will  soon  indulge  me  with  another  precious 
visit !" 


THE    WILDERNESS.  35 

"  It  \viil  ho  whenever  our  father  pleases,"  returned  Maria, 
looking  at  the  prophet  wiih  an  expression  ol  countenance 
wh'  di  very  much  favored  Charles's  request. 

••  It  will  then  he,  when  both  safety  and  propriety  combine 
to  permit,"  :-aid  Tonnaleuka.  "  Hut,  my  son,"  continued 
lie.  addres<int>-  Charles,  '•  In-  comforted;  her  absence  will 
not  he  unnecessarily  protracted." 

••  Then  farewell,  my  beloved!"  cried  Charles;  "and  may 
the  (ire  it  Guardian  of  all  puritv  protect  you  in  every  peril, 
ami  assist  you  through  every  dilliciili v  !" 

'•  t'areweli,  Charles!"  said  she;  "may  he  likewise  be 
your  protector!" — and  they  separated. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Beneath  a  moving  s!i:ide  of  fruits  and  (lowers, 
Onw.ml  thi'V  iii.irch  to   li  mien's  sici'ed  ho'.vers: 
\V:th  lifted  torch  lie  lights  the  festive  triin 
Sublime,  and   le;n!s  them  m  h;s  uoiden  ch:iin  , 
•     Joins  the  fond   |),nr.   mil  u  li_'ent  to  their  \o\ss. 

And  hides,  with  m\s.i..c  veil,  their  blushiii.;  lirows. 

DARWIN. 

SHORTLY  afier  the  forc<roin<r  visit  of  M.iria  to  h°r  lover's 
r;i"erii,  the  first  marriage  tlia1  ever  took  p!  ic  >  between  the 
c!'  Idren  of  Britain  in  the  Wdderne.s-*,  w  i~-  celebrated.  A-5 
tli"  nartie<  to  thi~;  nuptial  treaty  have  alreadv  b.-en  m  tlte 
re  ider's  presence,  and  have,  I  trust,  made  upon  his  mind,  if 
liiit  a  \a:ry  dee[),  at  least  not  an  unfavorable  impression,  1 
»!•  ill  take  the  lib'-riv,  for  whic'i,  with  all  the  humility  possi- 
bl"  in  an  author,  1  crave  indulgence,  to  expend  a  lew  pa^es 
in  relating  some  of  the  circinn-taiii-es  connected  with  a  tra  ns- 
ai-;ion  which  had,  upon  ilie-e  parties,  the  very  important 
eirect  of  binding  them  together  lor  life. 


3D  1'HE     \V1J,1>KKNKSS. 

'To  keep  the  reader  no  longer  in  suspense  as  to  the  happ, 
couple,  I  shall  broadly  name  them,  viz  :  Andrew  rvillbreath. 
M.  D.,  late  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  and  iSancy  Frazier. 
eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  Gilbert  Frazier,  of  Frazier's  Field,  at 
the  forks  of  Turtle  Creek  a;id  the  Monongahela.  Alter  this 
precise  annunciation,  there  can  he  no  mistake  as  to  the  iden 
tity  of  the  persons.  I  shall  therefore  go  on  to  show  the 
marriage. 

The  bridegroom,  that  is,  the  Doctor,  was,  as  in  this  ca 
heeaine  him,  the  j>rand  spring  in  moving  the  whole  machh  e 
of  the  matter.  He  had  long  solicited  the  hand  of  the  fair 
IS  ancy,  and  she  had  been  nothing  loth  to  let  him  have  ii. 
Besides  this,  her  father  and  mother,- and  every  one  else  tint 
had  anything  to  say  in  the  affair,  had  assented  to  her  be 
coming  the  Doctor's  wife:  and  the  latter  had,  for  ma:;v 
months,  found  only  one  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  trenii  : 
possession  of  the  desired  premises,  which  \vas,  the  want  of 
some  proper  person  to  perlect  the  deeds.  The  arrival  of 
the  Chaplain  that  accompanied  Charles  Adderly's  last  expe 
dition,  seemed  to  remove  this  obstacle,  and  to  oiler  to  tl  e 
Doctor  the  prospect  of  immediate  happiness.  But  the  Do  •- 
tor  found  in  this  matter,  as  many  smother  clever  fellow  in 
this  precious  world  has  done,  that  there  is,  as  the  old  sayii  g 
has  it,  "many  a  slip  between  the  cup  and  the  lip." 

I  had  at  the  time  more  important  business  on  hand,  other 
wise  I  should  have  related  the  Doctor's  joy  on  finding  -o 
desirable  a  personage  as  the  Chaplain  along  with  the  exp.- 
dition,  and  the  measures  that  he,  in  consequence,  adopted  o 
avail  himself  of  that  lucky  circumstance.  There  i*  ho\\ev<  r, 
no  time  lost,  and  ]  beg  leave  now  to  atone  for  the  omission. 

'•INow,  ]N  ancy, "  said  he,  running  to  his  fair  one,  as  socii 
as  he  learned  that  the  Chaplain  was  forthcoming,  and  taki::j 
her  aside — "  Now,  my  dear,  there  need  be  no  longer  del;  y 
of  our  happiness.  Mr.  Adderly  has  brought  a  clerjjym;  n 
with  him,  who  can  make  us  man  and  wife.  If  you  w  il 
consent  to  it,  I  shall  engage  him  to  perform  the  ceremon  .  , 
as  soon  as  you  shall  think  convenient.  But,  O  !  my  dear  I  't 
it  be  soon  !  " 

"Have  you  spoke  to  my  father  about  it  yet?"  ask^d 
iVancy. 

"  iVo,  mv  love  ;    hut  I  .nn  • uu    lir  will  h-v.e  no  ob|frti(.-i. 


\  'Hi  know  lie  has  long  since  said  that  he  had  none  to  our 
nr'.rriage.  provided  we  had  a  clergyman  convenient  to  per- 
fo:-in  it.  .Now  wo  have  a  clergyman,  JNancy.  and  I  expect 
your  lather  will  keep  his  word.  '' 

•'  1  expect  so  too,"  said  she  :  "  and  if  he  has  no  objection 
—  then — then But  you  and  he  for  it,  Doctor!" 

"Oh,  my  dear  '  give  me  a  s\veet  kiss  tor  that,"  said  the 
Docter.  "I  will  immediately  converse  with  your  lather  and 
Inve  the  happy  day  appointed." 

"  You  may  do  as  you  think  proper,"  was  Nancy's  reply. 
He  took  another  iervent  kiss,  pressed  her  hand  softly,  and 
hastened  away,  with  great  animation  of  manner,  in  search 
01'  Gilbert. 

If  Gilbert  had  any  seiuptc_s  at  ail  on  the  subject,  it  arose 
from  this  clergyman  not  being  a  Presbyterian.  "It  was  un 
fortunate,"  he  said,  "that  he  should  belong  to  the  prelacy, 
wha  had  only  cleared  aft'  a  sma'  part  o'  the  abominations  o' 
the  whore  o'  Babylon,  as  the  worthy  gospel  minister  o' 
iMaughrygowan,  Alexander  Carmichael,  used  to  say."  These 
scruples,  however,  soon  gave  way  before  the  weight  of  the 
Doctor's  rhetoric,  rind  Gilbert  consented  that  on  that  day 
ir.on'.h  the  learned  Doctor  should  become  his  son-in-law. 

'I'll"  Doctor  thought,  perhaps  justly  enough,  that  there 
\\  is  no  good  reason  for  waiting  to  such  a  distant  period; 
but  Gilbert  stated,  that  one  month  was  the  exact  length  of 
time  which  had,  on  appointing  the  day,  been  fixed  for  him- 
s(  !f  to  wait  for  the  attainment  of  Xelly's  hand  :  and  insisted 
t!  al  the  Doctor  was  capable  of  exerting  as  much  patience 
a-  he  then  was,  and  that  he  should  now  submit  to  do  so. 
'I  iie  Doctor,  not  being  able  to  do  better,  acquiesced,  saga- 
c;  Misly  observing,  that  the  longest  month  would  have  an  end. 

Hut,  'das  !  if  either  the  Doctor  or  Gilbert  had  posses.-ed 
tl,'1  spirit  of  prophesy,  they  would  not  have  agreed  to  such 
a  listant  period;  and  Tonnalenka,  who  might  perhaps  have 
set  them  right  in  the  matter  was  not  consulted. 

The  capture  of  Charles  Adderly's  follower  happened  in 
tl.o  interval  ;  and  before  the  heavily  moving  month  hat!  gone 
p.'st,  the  ill-starred  clergyman  had  been  obliged  to  take  tip 
rn<  quarters  in  Fort,  Le  Ho'iif. 

The    Doctor  and    Nancy  were  mii«'h    afHic.trd   at  this   un- 


THE    WILDERNESS. 

toward  accident,  this  dashing  of  the  cup  of  bliss  out  of  ih-n 
hands,  \vhe.:i  it  ha  I  almost   approached    their  lips.      Bit  the 
D  >ctor  was  a  nriii  of  sense  :  and  therefore,  instead  of  si  tiny 
down,  and   uselessly   laai  MitniiT  his    niisjortune,   he  set    hi^ 
mind  to  work  to  discover  how  lie  should  best  repair  it.     15u; 
first,  having  a  good  deal  of  mettle  in  liis  composition,  he  re 
solved  to  convince  his  unstress  of  jt,  hy  inrticiinij  a  blmv  o1' 
some  kind  upon  the    French,    in  re  venire  f,r  the  mjnrv  ttiev 
had  dune  him.      lie   accordingly   joined,   heart  and  hand,  in 
the  scheni"  \vhich  Kiddy  had    projected    lor  tin1   de>tniclio- 
of  Charles's  escort.     Soon  al'er  ibis  exoloit  however  he  \i>-~ 
gan  to  think,  that  from  the  French   themselves  he  might  ob 
tain  a  remedy  fir  hi-  ii.isf'ortune.      Th   ir  Chaplain,  he  con 
ceived,   must  he  as  capable  of  making   husbands   and    wive- 
as   any  oilier    Chaplain:   and,    although    he  should    ns>'    ;i, 
form  prescribed  bv  ilie  Romish  c'lur.-ii,  vet  that  form  \vouM 
still  be  a  chri-t;-"i  one.  a:    ;  w>  lid.  if  ii  erred  at  ail,  err  onl 
on  the  safe  side,  bv  U'i;i:,r  too  much  ceremony  ;n 
li'lle.      To  aet  hound  to  his  N:-incv,  was  the  in-eii  object  fur 
which  he  lonoed  ;    and,   if   he  could  onh~   <ret  this    C:i 
pr'n-s!   to   dj  it,   if  it   should   be   a  lillle   overdone,    he   cou!  1 
readily  excuse  him. 

.Monsieur  d'Abheviile  hid  been  too  lonir  a  military  prie.-i, 
and  was  too  deeply  versed  in  Montaigne's  Essays,  to  li  ! 
any  irreat  scruple  of  conscience  in  performing  a  piece  of  se  - 
vice,  of  the  kind  the  doctor  wanted,  to  two  voting  lov<-r«  \ 
a  Wii,!)KK\i:s.s,  allhoiii>'h  they  should  be  heretics.  H-  iher  - 
fore  Ciincen ted  without  hesitation  to  spend  a  merrv  niu'i!  at 
Frazier's,  and  in  d\e  the  doctor  happy. 

There1  was  another  obstacle,  however,  which  the  doci  >r 
found  more  difficulty  in  removing.  This  was  the  conscii-n- 
lions  scruples  of  both  Gilbert  and  Xellv,  in  assentina  to  i  ;e 
marria<re  of  their  dai:irlner  by  one  of  ihe  priests  of  Aniichri-t 
The,  doctor  had  anticipated  this;  and,  therefore,  besides  e\c' 
ertincr  all  the  artillery  of  Ijis  own  eloquence,  he  took  care  10 
secure  the  powerful  aid  of  Paddy's,  who,  in  a  few  conv-r- 
satioris,  drew  over  his  mother  to  the  side  of  the  lovers. 

Gilbert  stoutly  maintained  his  integrity  for  some  days,  but 
at  length  yielded  rather  to  the  importunities  and  entreaties 
of  his  whole  family,  than  to  his  own  conviction  on  the  mat 
ter,  observing — 


Till;    WILDERNESS.  .49 

v>  \\  eel.  mv  bairns,  gin  ye  will  marry,  e'en  in  the  name  o' 
Gracious,  iio  sae,  an"  diima,  i^aze  me  mair  about  it.  It  is 
r  to  marry  than  to  burn,  Saint.  Paul  says  ;  an',  feggs, 
i;in  ye  didna  marry  noo  wi'  my  wull,  you  micht  do  waur  in 
spite  o'  me.  1  uinua  like  tiiem  limbs  o'  tho  pope.  But 
::iey  ca'  themsel's  Christian*,  though  the  fule  IV  me!  gin 
they  ken  audit  about  it ;  yet  syne  ye  maun  gang  thegither,  its 
Better  to  be  married  in  their  gate  than  no  be  married  ava.  It 
was  an  auld  saying  in  Maughrygowan,  '  ()'  twa  puddles,  aye 
.•boose  the  cle  me-t. : 

In  consequence  of  tins  iva-oning  on  (he  part  of  Gilbert, 
everv  article  was  removed, and  the  17th  of  March — Patrick's 
.:ay,  clear  reader  i  a  day  to  which  Gilbert's  haarl  was  always 
partial — was  lixed  for  the  wedding. 

The  preparations  for  celebrating  a  day  so  important  in  the 
•mals  of  Gilbert's  family,  occupied  the  attention  of  his  whole 
household  for  nearly  a  week.  Gilbert,  having  irjven  his  -as 
sent  to  have  the  thing  done,  resolved  to  put  forth  his  might 
10  have  it  done  genteelly,  and  therefore  spared  no  pains  on 
the  occasion.  Paddy  also  greatly  exerted  himself:  and  as. 
he  was  at  this  time  on  a  more  than  usually  intimate  footing 
with  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  for,  ever  since  the  affair  of 
'iear's-creek,  he  had  been  extremely  assiduous  in  cultivating 
; heir  good  will,  he  procured  from  their  stores  a  supply  of 
luxuries  which  could  not  then  have  been  elsewhere  procured 
in  the  Wilderness.  He  had,  also,  with  the  view  of  iturra- 
•iatmg  himself  still  more  lirmlv  into  their  good  graces,  in 
vited  several  of  them,  and  two  or  three  ()f  their  ladies,  to  the 
ceremony;  having  resolved  in  his  own  mind  that  the  festivi 
ties  of  the  day  shou!  1  con  dude  wiiii  ;;  ball. 

As  to  the  part  whudi  was  assigned  to  Maria  in  these  prepa- 
ations  they  were   both  zealously  iindenakan  and   efficiently 
performed.      The    regulation   of  the  bride's   d;-e*s,  the  deco- 
raiion   of  the.  room,  the    arrangement  of  the   table   economy, 
like    were  what    principally  came    under   her    man- 
As  to  Mrs.  Fra/.ier,  everv  good    house-wife,  who 
me  to  prepare  a  marriage  ('east,  knows  that  she  had 
a  thousand  thing-  to  do.  and  it  has  been   satisfactorily  ascer 
tained,  that  she   neglected   none   ol    them. 
21 


40  IHK     \\ILDKKNESa. 

Ill  short,  the  great  day  at  length  came,  and  just  about  the 
hour  of  noon,  the  "  holy  man,"  accompanied  by  rive  officers 
and  three  ladies,  came  gaily  to  the  door. 

Nancy  was  enclosed  in  a  small  room  with  Maria,  who  was 
decorating  her  for  the  occasion,  \v  hen  she  perceived  this  merry 
party  advancing  past  the  window. 

"  Oh,  Maria  dear!"  she  exclaimed,  "  tiiere  they  are  !  what 
shall  1  do  ?  I  never  shall  be  able  to  face  t'nose  impudent 
looking  o Dicers,  and  funny  looking  ladies.  Oh,  I  feel  alreadv 
ashamed  !" 

••Fear  nothing,"  tuid  Aiaria  ;  "  it  is  a  trying  occasion,  I 
acknowledge:  but  1  am  convinced  you  will  go  through  it 
creditably.  Why,  Nancy,  you  reaily  look  so  well  that  you 
need  nut  to  be  ashamed  to  show  yourself  in  any  place,  or  be 
fore  any  company." 

"But  they  will  be  all  looking  at  me,"  returned  Nancy; 
"  Oh  !  how  will  I  stand  it !  If  none  but  our  own  family  were 
to  ue  present,  1  could  do  well  enough,  1  believe — but  such  a 
number  cf  strangers  ! — I  wish  Paddy  had  been  far  enough 
when  he  asked  them." 

•'  1  ou  must  have  courage,  Naiics  ,"  observed  her  sisier  ; 
"  tin:  two  or  three  first  minutes  will  carry  jou  over  the  whole 
difficulty.  The  first  look  at  you  will  give  these  people  a  fa 
vorable  impression  ;  and  they  will  not  for  civility's  sake,  you 
may  depend  on  it,  after  that,  attempt  to  stare  at  you,  at  least 
with  any  rudeness  or  intention  to  hurt  your  feelings." 

"  I  wish  the  affair  was  over  altogether  !"  returned  the  bride. 

'•  1  myself  wish  it.  1  assure  you,"  said  .Maria,  "  both  for 
your  sake,  and  my  own,  for  1  anticipate  that  it  will  be  too  jo 
vial  a  scene  for  my  taste.  But,  Nancy,  we  must  have  cour 
age,  and  perform  our  parts  as  well  as  we  can.  \<>ur  part,  I 
am  aware,  will  be  by  far  tiie  most  tiifncult  ;  but  I  am  per 
suaded  you  will  acquit  yourself  properly.  Keep  up  a  good 
spirit  ;  you  will  get  through  it  more  easily  than  you  expect." 

'•I  shall  get  through  it,"  replied  Nancy,  "I  know  1  shall, 
but  then  I  doubt  it  it  will  be  with  a  great  deal  of  blundering  ; 
for  I  really  know  nothing  about  such  a  matter." 

li  Nor  is  it  necessary,  I  should  presume,"  said  Maria. 
'•  I  should  suppose,  that  it  is  the  priest's  duty  to  inform  you. 
Every  young  woman  who  is  going  to  be  married  in  not  sup- 


THE     WILDEKXKMS,  41 

posed  to  be  acquainted  with  the  forms  of  the  ceremony.  The 
contrivers  of  these  forms  must  therefore,  have  provided  for 
this,  circumstance." 

"Then1  is  no  help  Cur  it  now."  said  LNancv  :  "  I  must  just 
fio  in  at  1  couid  ;dnu,:rt  wi-hthat  I  had  not  to  under 

go  the  trial." 

••  U  hv.  are  you  not  geumg  a  »uod  man  and  a  loud  lover 
lor  yoni  hus'oand  .'"  oi'sem-d  Maria,  "•  and  will  not  that  atone 
(••r  an)  ::'i;.-  temporary  inc.  this  n:-t'.iro.  But, 

believe  me,  i  ou  will  not  fee!  i:  'if  the  confusion  yon  expect." 

Ai  this  mo  m  n!  In  ;  inotln  >•  entered  to  inip.ir"  if  Nancy 
was  read)  ;••  be  introduced  to  die  cun;panv.  A  iev  minnie-^ 
more  made  her  so,  and  hin-duiij  ••  like  ihe  (i,i\\  nm»'  o!  morn," 
lair  \\ooii-nymph  was  ;  r  sidi  lairer  sister 

in  o  lite  present  ot  the  ^ay  French  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
w!h>  .  ,  i  see  them.  Expecting 

only  to  behold  raw,  clownish,  and  coarse  girls,  little  superior 
..•arance  01  .  son  to  the  squaws  that  per 

formed  liie'r  meii:.  -.  h;>w  great  was  their  astonish 

ment,  when  those  i->;nn»is.--eiirs  saw  en'u-rii.if  their  presence, 
;n  simple,  neat,  and  e'.egi.m  attire,  two  beautiful  females,  so 
vei  M)  modest,  that  they  might  have  passed  for 
Diana  and  one  of  h(-r  -Mine  from  the  classic  plains 

oi  Ciieece  to  hunt  in  '.iiis  unknown  Wilderness. 

Iniii!  us  ind  buws  were  made;  and  a  thousand 

compliments  paid  by  the  oii:  M  rs,  with  all  the  rapidity  and 
volubility  ef!  me  (« a]  i -an  politeness.  The  |-'reriHi  ladies  also 
received  om  tv,o  buds  of  the  forest  with  politeness  and  good 
hnini.;-,  a'linonjrli  tiiey  conid  not  but  be  conscious  thai  they 
were  surpassed  by  them  1-1  ad  those  cliarms  and  graces  of 
person  on  which  they,  in  reality v  had  some  reason  to  value 
themselves. 

Nancy  understood  a  little  I'Yencn,  but  Maria  spoke  it  al- 
ni'i.-t  a-  Cicely  as  I'jigli.-h.  Niie.  therefore  took  the  burthen 
oi  conversing  with  the-e  ladies  upon  herself. 

"  \Vliv,  Mi.-s  Frazii-r,''  obsr-i'ved  Madan.e  de  Vamnloise, 
'•tii's  is  ready  a  novel  and  charming  scene  to  which,  we  have 
been  invited.  I  should  not  have  missed  the  delight  of  being 
here  to-day  for  the  world." 

"The  business  of  this  dav  is,  indeed,"  ^aid  Maria,  "alto- 


42  i  KK    \\  n,m;KNi-;ss. 

gcthe;  a  novelty  here.  I  believe  that  nothing  of  the  kind  has 
before  taken  place  in  these  woods.  The  singularity  of  the 
situation,  and  other  circumstances,  for  a  wedding-patty,  it 
is  natural  should  make  some  impression  on  your  mind  ;  and, 
as  you  have  no  doubt  the  good  nature  to  view  some  things 
with  indulgence  which  you  cannot  altogether  appiove,  so  you 
may,  perhaps,  on  account  of  not  having  expected  much  to 
give  satisfaction,  be  inclined  to  yield  to  what  is  really  toler 
able,  more  credit  than  it  deserves." 

"  I  see  nothing,"  returned  the  French  lady,  •'  but  what 
the  most  fastidious  would  acknowledge  to  be  delightful  ;  and 
the  occasion  is  so  interesting— a  beautiful  young  woman  go 
ing  to  be  married  to  a  fine  looking  young  man — really,  Miss 
Frazier,  the  whole  is  charming  !  What  say  you,  .Madame 
Joncaire,  is  it  not  charming?  But  the  btide  herself — I  must 
have  her  opinion." 

Nancy  sat  silent,  pretending  not  to  have  noticed  this  inti 
mation  to  join  in  the  discourse,  while  Madame  Joncaire 
observed — 

"  It  is,  indeed,  admirable  !  and  in  the  wild  woods  too  ! — 
who  would  have  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  !  and  such  a  place, 
and  such  people!  Why,  Madame  de  Vamploise,  1  am  real 
ly  charmed  !  But  I  wish  to  hear  the  bride's  opinion  of  the 
matter.  My  dear,"  said  she,  addressing  Nancy,  "will  you 
favor  us." 

Nancy,  finding  that  she  was  compelled  to  speak,  replied, 
with  as  much  good  humor  as  she  could,  to  her  ganulous 
companions — "I  have  not  had  sufficient  means  of  judging 
how  these  things  should  be,  to  know  whether  we  are  here 
likely  to  conduct  them  right  or  wrong.  But  we  shall  do 
the  best  we  can  to  make  you  and  the  rest  of  our  compan\ 
comfortable." 

"  La  !  now,"  returned  Madame  De  Vamploise.  "this  is 
not  what  we  want  to  know.  We  v:ant  to  know,  my  dear, 
how  you  like  your  present  situation.  We  -ue  so  charmed 
with  it,  that  we  hope  you  too  feel  happy.  Why,  1  remem 
ber  when  1  was  myself  going  to  be  married — it  was  at  J'our- 
deaux,  a  very  gay  place,  1  assure  you — how  l.felt  !  for  the 
whole  world  was  present — and  Monsieur  De  Vamploise  was 
so  gay  and  agreeable,  not  like  the  dry,  prim,  Dutrhmnn- 
looking  pi'''  c  of  gravity  that  hr  now  i:  ." 


THE     WILDERNESS.  4U 

"Heh!  what  you  say  now,  my  chucky  ?"  cried  De  Vam- 
ploise,  who  h-id  heard  these  flattering  observations  of  his 
helpmate,  as  she  intended  he  should.  "Why,  to  be  sure  I 
was  always  pleasant — but,  as  to  your  Dutch  comparison,  my 
dear,  wlyy  shouldn't  a  Dutchman  be  as  pleasant  as  another 
man  '  Answer  me  that,  my  spoil .-o  !" 

Here  the  priest  interposed.  "No  catechising,  I  beg  of 
you."  said  he.  "  It  is  my  province  to  be  inquisitor;  and  1 
will  inquire  of  our  fair  bride  here,  whether  you,  Madame  de 
\  ^mploise,  have  Driven  her  lair  play  in  your  discourse,  for  1 
know  it  is  seldom  that,  you  give  it  to  anybody." 

"How  so!  Monsieur  d'Abheville  ?"  quickly  demanded 
the  lady. 

'•  1'rc.ause  you  unmercifully  exert  all  your  powers  against 
us,"  returned  the  priest,  "when  one  half  of  them  would  be 
as  much  as  we  could  have  any  reasonable  chance  of  icsist- 
ins:.  Hut,  apropos,  1  think  we  had  belter  have  this  cere 
mony  performed  before  dinner,  and  then  we  shall  be  at  ease, 
and  have  nothing  to  do  afterwards  but  enjoy  ourselves.'' 

••.Nobly  said,  your  reverence  !"  exclaimed  Monsieur  de 
Vamploise;  "1  second  your  motion.  What  says  the  bride- 
ifi'oom  i" 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  We  are  in 
this  matter,  under  the  priest's  control.  Let  him  regulate  it 
as  he  chooses." 

••  Well,  then,"  returned  the  priest,  "we  shall  prepare." 

At  that  instant  the  sounds  of  horses'  feet  were  heard  at 
the  door,  and  the  ceremony  was  delayed.  Paddy  L'ra/ier 
in  a  few  minutes  introduced  two  travellers  to  the  company, 
bv  the  names  of  Mr.  Washington  and  Mr.  Vanbraam. 

Joncaire  and  De  Vamploise  had  seen  Washington  before, 
and  immediately  recognized  him. 

••  \\  hat  !  1  am  reallv  <jlad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Washington," 
exclaimed  Joncaire,  as  he  shook  him  bv  the  hand;  "yon 
remember  Yenanin)  yet,  I  hope.'" 

"Very  well,"  replied  Washington;  "and  1  remember 
•<.  on  too.  N  ou  ha\e  ki-pt  your  words  good  with  respect,  to 
Shanapins,  I  hear;  but  no  matter — it  is  the  fate  of  war,  and 
the  sword  devoureth  one  man  as  well  as  another." 

"  \  on  remark  excellently,  Mr.  Washington.     Hut!  hope 


44  fHK     WILDERNESS. 

you  are  not  come  among-  us  this  time  with  any  proposals  to 
drive  us  from  this  pleasant  country.  By  G — d,  all  the  trea 
ties  that  can  ever  he  penned  in  Virginia,  will  not  induce  me 
to  le;n  e  i'  !" 

"  \  Oil  may  rest  at  ease  on  that  subject  at  present."  ob 
served  Washington.  "  I  corne  here  on  no  official  business; 
I  am  merely  a  private  visitor." 

"Then  let  us  drive  public  concerns  to  the  de\il,  for  this 
day  at  least,  Mr.  Washington.  We  are  come  to  a  wedding, 
and  have  nothing  to  do  here  to-day  but  to  be  merry.  I  hope 
you  will  have  no  objection  to  join  us?"' 

Washington  had  been  hastily  informed  by  Pnddv.  previ 
ous  to  hi.--  entering  the  room,  of  whai  was  msing"  on.  "I 
will  have  no  objection  in  the  world/"  he  c.bsened  in  reply 
to  Joncaire.  Re  then  hastily  proceeded  to  pav  his  re>;i  :cls 
to  each  individual  in  the  room.  Wh::n  he  came  to  Maria, 
he  for  a  moment  changed  color,  and  Ire:  in  bled  so.  that,  had 
he  not  possessed  an  unparalleled  command  over  IIMM--'.  If. 
which  enabled  him  suddenly  to  check  his  ainiatioi;.  ii  w«uld 
not  have,  failed  to  betray  itself.  As  it  was,  however,  Ai-n-ia 
alone  observed  it.  Si',  slisfhlh  blushed  at  the  circumstance, 
which  his  keen  e\  e  peri'i'i\  i>i.  and  from  thence  imbibed  a 
hope,  a  delusive  hope,  of  the  mini  re  of  her  iVelinsr?  towards 
hi  in. 

lie  hastened  to  seat  himself  beside  the  bridegroom,  with 
whom,  in  order  to  divert  the  current  of  his  ideas,  so  that  he 
might  the  more  easily  join  in  the  good  humor  of  the  com 
pany,  he  entered  into  a  lively  and  interesting-  conversation 
on  the  topic  of  this  being-  the  first  Christian  wedding  ever 
given  in  so  remote  a  part  of  the  country. 

The  priest  having  now  put  on  his  sanctified  vestments, 
and  all  oth*M-  matters  thi-t  he  deemed  essential  to  the  cere 
mony  being  adjusted,  he  ordered  the  doctor  and  his  betrothed 
to  kneel  tog-ether  before  him.  The  whole  company  also 
knelt;  when,  having  none  throujrh  what  Gilbert  considered 
the  profane  and  idolatrous  ceremony  of  the  mass,  he  pro 
ceeded  to  the  more  interesting  and  essential  one  of  receiving 
the  mutual  vows  of  the  bridal  pair,  and  then,  with  as  much 
haste  as  the  forms  of  his  church  permitted,  he  pronounced 
them  to  be  husband  and  wife,  and  desired  the  doctor  to  im- 


THE     WILDERNESS.  45 

-rint  the  seal  of  the  sacred  union  upon  his  wife's  lips.  The 
I'ovMor  eagerly  obeyed  ;  the  priest  imitated  him,  and  every 
man  in  the  company  followed  such  a  laudable  and  agreeable 

example. 


CHAPTER  \. 

So  peaceful  rests  without  a  stone,  a  name, 

That  once  had  beauty,  titles,  wealth  and  fame. 

How  loved,  how  honored  once,  avails  thee  not, 

To  whom  related,  or  by  whom  begot; 

A  heap  of  dust,  alone  remnins  of  thee, 

rTis  all  thou  art,  and  all  the  proud  shall  be. 

POPE. 

Tins  important  matter  being  so  happily  accomplished, 
the  whole  company  felt  disposed  for  the  enjoyment  of  hilar- 
iiv  and  mirth.  The  slv  innendo.  the  smart  repartee,  and 
the  loud  lau<rh.  now  exercised  the  wits  and  amused  the  fan 
cies  of  all  present,  until,  by  the  exertions  of  Mrs.  Frazier 
and  Maria,  assisted  also  by  Archy,  a  plentiful  and  luxurious 
dinner  smoked  noon  the  'able. 

The  French  showed  themselves  as  good  at  eating  as  they 
had  been  at  jesting,  anil,  tor  about  twenty  or  thirty  minutes 
appeared  to  have  as  keen  a  relish  for  Mrs.  Frazicr's  dain 
ties  as  for  their  own  jokes.  To  this  full  and  comfortable 
repast  succeeded  a  liberal  supply  of  excellent  wine,  (whether 
riiampairiie  or  Burgundy  1  have  not  been  informed,)  pro 
cured  b\-  Paddv  irom  the  garrison,  to  the  soul-cheering 
qualities  of  which,  the  increased  gavety  and  jollitv  of  the 
company,  particularly  of  the  French  part  of  it,  soon  bore 
testimony. 

An  inclination  for  dancing  soon  became  the  consequence 
of  this  overflowing  of  the  spirits  ;  and,  as  Paddy  possessed 


4f)  THE     WILDERNESS. 

a  violin,  and  belli  Vanbraam  and  he  were  tolerable  perform 
ers,  ihe  strings  were  soon  srr(  wed  to  the  proper  pitch,  and 
away  went  the  merrv  Frenchmen  to  the  region?  of  airiness 
and  joy. 

After  becoming  somewhat  relieved  rind  composed  by  th;- 
first  irregular  and  vainer  violent  explosion  of  their  bounding 
spirits,  they  proposed  a  more,  civili/eo  and  rational  ;et  of 
danc'-s.  in  which  ih.e  ladies  -hoidd  hear  a  part.  A  nuuiar 
cotillon  \vas  soon  tn>!  up,  i'orwhirh  -Mr.  Washington  had 
the  aood  fortune  to  secure  Mari;--  as  a  partner. 

But  I  will  not  detain  the  reader  with  a  foimal  description 
of  the  amusements  of  this  eaxinij.  (hiring  which,  the  noble 
appearance  and  accomplished  manners  o!  Washington  ren 
dered  him  a  great  i'avorite  with  tlic  French  ladies,  while  the 
uncommon  beauty,  and  the  thous;  ml  (Tacts  that  sparkled 
round  Maria,  excited  the  unbounded  admiration  of  the  oiii- 
cers.  Washing-ion  was  happy — for  Maria,  studious  to  gi\e 
him  no  car.se  of  uneasiness,  paid  him  every  attention,  and 
spared  no  pains  to  render  his  situation  agreeable  ;  and  lie 
could  not  but  fondly  cherish  the  idea,  that  if  such  partiality 
did  not  proceed  iron:  hj\e.  !t  mi<rht  be  brought  to  end  in  it. 

Indeed,  so  poinied  was  the  at'entiou  which  these  two 
voting  pe<  pL  paid  ,  other  this  evening,  that  the 

French,  bo;'1.  HUM  and  women,  observed  it,  and  became  sat 
isfied  that  \,  ashinffi  lit  vis;t  was  altogether  a  visit 
of  love.  The  olbcris.  therefore,  alih<..Ui:h  they  were  aware 
of  his  political  standing  ;-nd  iniluence  as  their  enemy,  felt  no 
inclination,  at  the  present  lime,  to  inquire  iurlher  into  his 
business  in  their  neighborhood.  They  envied,  indeed,  his 
good  fortune  in  making  an  impression,  as  they  supposed  he 
had  done,  on  the  heart  of  so  lovely  a  heino'  as  Maria,  but 
this  was  an  envy  attended  rather  with  a  feeling-  of  felicita 
tion  than  of  animosity  towards  him  ;  for  they  were  persua 
ded  that  he  Mas  vorthy  of  her.  and  at  that  moment  felt, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  a  sincere  wish  for  the  welfare  of 
both  these  interesting  objects  of  their  admiration,  and  would 
have  had  no  objection  to  have  spent  another  merry  day  at 
Fra/ier's,  in  order  to  witness  'heir  union.  Joncaire,  who 
was  the  only  one  of  the  French  present  who  could  speak 
English,  during  the  evening  took  occasion  to  banter  Wash 
ington  on  the  subject. 


THE     \V1I.DF.U\ESS.  47 

"  1  think,  .Mr.  Washington,"  said  he,  "  that  it  is  in  your 
power  to  afford  us  another  agreeable  day  like  this,  by  giving 
Monsieur  d'Abbeville  another  job.  Snpposeyou  detain  us  for 
!')-inorrow.  By  my  faith,  we  will  take  it  as  agreatkindness." 

"  There  is  nothing  more  remote  from  my  power  at  present 
I  assure  yon,  sir,"  replied  Washington.  "I  cannot  see  how 
von  c-ould  have  fallen  upon  such  a  conjecture." 

'•  No  conjecture,"  returned  Joncaire,  "  could  be  more  na 
tural.  Who  could  look  at  that  young  lady  without  admira 
tion  ?  By  heavens  !  if  I  were  a  young  fellow  like  you,  I 
could  not—  nay,  pardon  me — as  it  is,  I  cannot — and  my  wife 
says  that  she  feels  the  same  sentiment  towards  you.  Upon 
honor,  Mr.  Washington,  if  1  did  not  see  that  you  are  other 
wise  engaged,  I  should  become  jealous  of  yon."  See  that 
leering  dame  of  a  wife  o(  mine,  she  cannot  keep  her  eyes 
off  you." 

"  It  is  yourself,  sir,  I  perceive,  that  she  is  looking  at,"  ob 
served  Washington,  following  the  direction  of  the  lady's  eyes. 
"  But  will  you  not  hurt  her  feelings  by  the  levity  of  these  ob 
servations  ?" 

"  Xo,  no."  returned  the  other,  "  she's  too  cunning  a  puss 
for  that.  Besides,  you  may  be  easy,  and  speak  freely  ;  for 
curse  the  word  of  what  we  say  will  she  understand." 

An  idea  of  retorting  upon  Joncaire,  at  least  of  diverting  the 
conversation  from  its  original  topic,  now  occurred  to  Wash 
ington.  '•  If  she  is  so  partial  to  me,"  said  he,  "as  yon  men 
tion,  you  may  really  bless  your  stars  that  you  secured  her 
hei'ore  1  saw  her.  tor  positively,  it  she  were  not  the  proper 
ty  ol  another.  I  should  try  to  make  her  my  own." 

"  lia!  ha  !"  exclaimed  the  light-hearted  Frenchman,  there 
for  you  now  !  1  knew  she  had  hit  yon  with  her  sharp  glances, 
Mr.  Washington,  although  you  alledjred  that  she  had  cast 
thi'in  at  me.  By  heavens  !  sir,  yon  perceive  that  her  eyes 
are  like  the  ijiuils  o[  a  porcupine." 

"That  is  a  strange  comparison,"  returned  Washington. 
"  I  raiher  think  they  are  like  ihe  slars  in  the  firmament." 

••  iia  !  sir.  yon  aie  loo  sublime  lor  me."  Here  they  were 
interrupted  bv  l)e  \  amploise,  who  wished  them  to  engage  in 
another  dance. 

The    sports    and   pn|ovuiPnin    of  ihe    niyht    were  kept    up 


48  THF.     \V1M)ERNES9. 

until  the  moon  arose,  which  was  about  one  o'clock  in  tin.' 
morning,  when  th<;  French  departed  as  gaily  as  they  had 
come,  and  a  couple  of  hours  found  them  snugly  deposited  in 
their  comfortable  cauches  at  Fort  Du  Qucsne.  But  before 
the  half  of  thai  period  had  elapsed,  all  Gilbert  Frazier's  in 
mates,  without  excepting  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  were  aw 
comfortably  disposed  of. 

Washington  was  up  with  the  dawn,  for  his  heart  was  far 
from  b'jing  at  such  case  as  either  to  invite  repose  or  make  it 
refreshing  when  it  came. 

"  Alas  '"'  thought  he,  as  he  walked  out  on  the  margin  of 
Turtle-Creek,  "if  ibis  most,  lovely  of  created  beings  refuses 
my  love,  how  wretched  1  shall  be!  My  In  art  destitute  and 
forlorn,  shall  bleed  at  the  desolation  of  its  hope  ;  but  it  shall 
be  still  more  miserable  at  the  thought  of  the  troubles  and 
dangers  with  which,  if  .she  will  not  leave  ibis  Wilderness, 
she  will  soon  be  surrounded.  War  !  shocking  and  barba 
rous  with  savages  will  ere  long  penetrate  to  these  wilds  ; 
and  Maria,  oh,  Maria  !  how  I  delisrht  to  name  thee  ! — Ob, 
how  wilt  then  escape  i's  furv!  But  I  will  ui'iic.  I  will  en- 
treat,  1  will  implore  thee  to  liy  with  me  while  there  is  y^t 
time,  while  thou  art  yet  safe,  nnd  before  the  coming  tempest 
bursts  around  thee.  Oh,  with  what  eagerness  I  should  march 
in  the  ranks  of  those  brave  men  who  shall  be  sent  here  to 
diive  the  enemies  oi  my  c'unury  from  their  usurped  fastnesses, 
it'  I  were  .-ure  that  she  who  is  dearer  to  me  than  life,  would 
not  siiiier  in  Hie  conflict.  i>ui  i  will  prevail  «;i  her — O 
heaven  yra:;t  t:;;;t  she  may  consent  to  become,  my  own.  tint 
1  mav  lodi'e  lier  in  a  place  of  saletv." 

[n  such  contemplations  this  ardent  and  illustrious  lover 
spent  upwards  of  an  hour.  He  returned  to  the  house,  re 
solved  to  watch  the  first,  opportunity  that  should  offer.  *o 
make  known  to  the  dear  mistress  of  his  affections  hi?  whole 
mind — his  fears — his  wishes — his  warmth  <>f  admiration, 
and  his  sincerity  of  love. 

Maria  had  risen.  lie  met  her  smiiii'ii  sweetly  in  all  the 
blooming  charms  of  maiden  youlhfulness.  ohe  was  busied 
preparing  breakfast,  and  as  she  went  through  the  various 
movements  of  household  economy  required  by  the  occasion, 
,he  perceived  in  every  turn  and  every  gesture,  n  gracefulness 


THK     H  II.DEKNESS.  49 

and  ca->e,  uhieh  showed  lliat  she  could  rentier  any  tusk  be- 
eomm<r  niid  interesting,  and  that  she  was  peculiarly  fitted  to 
preside  with  dignity,  proprielv,  and  oTaec  over  -all  kinds  of 
domestic  concern.-1. 

'•  Oh,  thai  she  weio  once  thn  mistress-  of  my  household  !" 
thought  her  adoring  lover;  '•  how  duubly  sweet  and  delightful 
would  then  the  shades  of  Mount  Yernon  be  to  me  !  It  may 
";'  so  ;  I  may  yet  be  so  happy  ;  and  the  time  may  not  be 
i'ir  dist'.mi.  To-day,  lo-day.  1  am  resolved  I  shall  ascertain 
the  stale  of  her  feelings.  Oh,  (lod  of  heaven  !  grant  that 
they  m-'v  he  favorable."1 

!>ut  an  unforesiv.n  circumstance  prevented  him  for thrt  day 
from  becoming,  as  he  had  resolved,  certain  on  this  point. 
The  breastfast  had  been  delayed  nearly  an  hour  on  account 
•  I  the  bridal  n-iir  who  wer-  rai;:<-r  tardy  in  making  their  ap- 
;  oarance.  At  lengt'.i  they  \vere  forthcoming,  and  iMrs.  Kil- 
hreatii  covered  with  blushes,  received  the  salutation?  of 
Washington  and  the  rest  of  the  family  ;  and  cheerfulness  ami 
ifaiety  prevailed  throughout  the  conversation,  with  which 
Miey  seasoned  the  most  comfortable,  because  generally  '-he 
most  simple  and  domestic  of  all  meals,  the  breakfast. 

This  meal,  however,  \vas  scarcely  over,  when  the  cheer- 
'ulness  and  satisfaction  of  ihe  party,  especially  of  Maria,  be 
came  overcast,  by  a  message  from  queen  Alliqnippa,  with 
intelligence  that  she  had  become  suddenly  very  ill,  and  was 
••or  expected  to  live  many  hours  ;  and  that,  conscious  herself 
of  her  approaching  end,  she  had  requested  to  see  Maria  before 
-he  died. 

Maria  immediately  s<>t  out  in  obedience  to  this  summon. 
When  she  arrive:1!  at  the  wigwam,  she  found  the  queen  just 
recovering  from  a  strong  convulsive  lit  which  had  left  her 
much  exhausted.  She,  was.  however,  sensible  of  the  pres- 
enr.e  of  tier  favorite,  and  pressed  her  hand  in  token  of  the 
.'•ati.-l'aciion  sh"  enjoyed  from  her  vi-'it.  .Maria  wept  over 
her,  fnr  she  irilt  thatshe  was  al>o;itto  lose  for  ever  one  of  her 
dearest,  and  mn>t  vnlned  friends. 

!Ier  i!':'i''i  seemed  irratel'ul  to  llie  ijue.en's  mind.      The  vio- 

M-ut  trenmrs  an.!  emotions  ii;:il  ;initaU:d  her  nearly  exhausted 

'inline.  =oine--vhai.    Mil"-ided  ;    and    the    power  of  arliculation, 

•Uiie'n    appeared    to  have  hecn  gone   for   ever,  returned  for  •> 

part  ,  -ind  cnabh'd  her  to  say—  - 


50  THE     WILDERNESS. 

a  Maria,  my  daughter,  thon  an  kiml.  It  plenses  me  to 
see  that  thou  iovest  rue.  But  do  not  grieve  too  much.  Some 
day  thnu  wilt  follow  ihy  mother."  Here  the  sounds,  aliho' 
continued,  could  not  be  distinguished,  and  the  weeping  Ma 
ria  replied  : 

"  My  mother  !  my  ever  affectionate  and  kind  mother  ! 
thou  art  goinir  to  leave  me.  I  will  indeed  regret — bitterly 
and  long  will  I  regret,  thy  departure,  for  thou  wert  ever  good 
and  kind  to  thy  daughter.  Oh  !  canst  thou  not  bless  me  he- 
fore  thou  goe?t?'' 

In  a  faint  muimur  the  queen  prayed — ''Oh,  Maneto,  bless 
my  child!"  Immediately  the  mr.scles  of  her  body  beearne 
slightly  agitated  with  a  short-continuing  convulsion,  during 
which  the  soul  lied  i's  frail  tenement;  and  on  its  subsiding, 
Alliquippa  was  found  to  have  returned  to  her  original  dust. 

Maria  kissed  ;!>e  cold  inanimate  lips  of  her  deceased 
friend,  and  withdrew  in  yreat  agitation.  The  Indians,  espe 
cially  their  females,  loudly  lamented  this  public  calamity  that 
had  befallen  their  tribe.  Alliquippa  had  indeed  been  always 
much  beloved  by  them,  for  the  indulgent,  kind,  and  pannta! 
manner  in  which  she  had  at  all  limes  exercised  her  author 
ity.  For  some  months  past  she  had  intermeddled  very  iit- 
very  little  with  public  affairs.  The  French  influence  in  the 
country,  since  iheir  establishment  at  Du  Quesne,  she  was 
unable  to  resist,  and  she  could  not  without  breaking  her  faith 
with  the  English,  join  in  promoting  it.  Besides,  since  the 
death  of  kins'  Shingiss,  to  whom  she  had  in  reality  been 
much  ;>U;,Hie.l,  she  mon  than  ever  haied  them  as  being  tin 
cause  of  his  destruction.  Her  tone  of  mind,  and  s'rength 
of  body  had  ever  since  that  fatal  event  been  gradually  and 
perceptibly  declining ;  and,  although  her  b:*t  mortal  attack 
of  sickness  was  sudden,  yet  that  depression  of  the  spirits, 
that  wasting  oi  the  frame,  which,  ever  since  the  battle  01 
Shamapins,  had  been  visible  to  every  ob.-ener,  could  not  fail 
1o  impart  the  opinion  that  she  was  hastening  to  the  world  o! 
spirits,  the  happy  land  where  the  brave  and  the  uprigbt,  tht 
faithful  and  the  vtffectionale.  shall  meet  to  enjoy  each  other'.*- 
society  for  ever,  undisturbed  by  the  .varwhoop.  or  the  sont 
of  slaughter  and  revenge;  where  men  shall  no  longer  pan 
for  each  other's  ruin,  where  no  blood  shall  be  shf-d,  ever'.. 


THE    WILDERNESS.  51 

liiat  of  the  deer  and  luillhlo,  and  warriors  shall  he  proud  of 
ro  exploits  but  the  destruction  of  the  wild  heasts  of  the 
forest. 

When  the  account  of  Alliquippa's  death  reached  Frazier's 
Washington  and  Paddy  set  (Hit  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
Maria  home.  As  the  latter  choosed  to  remain  some  time  at 
the  wigwam,  for  the  purpose  of  showing  the  Indians  his  re- 
>pect  for  their  deceased  queen,  he  left  the  task  of  conduct 
ing  his  sister  home  altogether  to  Washington.  Had  her 
mind  been  in  its  usual  state,  her  lover  could  not  have  wish 
ed  for  a  more  favorable  opportunity  of  nu.king  known  to 
her  his  wishes  :  but  his  soul  was  of  too  delicate  a  nature  to 
obtrude  upon  her,  in  her  affliction,  that  disclosure  of  his 
feelings  and  desires  which  belonged  to  make.  During  their 
walk,  therefore,  the  conversation  chiefly  turned  upon  the  his 
tory  and  character  of  ihe  deceased. 

"You  will  not  be  surprised,  Mr.  Washington,"  said  Ma 
ria,  "  that  I  feel  so  much  for  the  loss  of  this  Indian  princess, 
who  has  been  to  me  ever  since  my  infancy,  the  most  con 
stant  of  friends,  a  companion  in  pastime,  a  sister  in  tender 
ness,  and  a  mother  in  affection.  By  this  stroke  of  fate,  I 
really  feel  bereaved  of  a  long  cherished  sonrce  of  happi 
ness'." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  replied  Washington,  "  a  great  trial  for  a 
sensible  and  grateful  mind  to  witness  the  death  of  a  beloved 
oh:ect.  and  one  too  from  whose  affection  it  has  been  accus 
tomed  to  derive  happiness  :  and  these  trials  must  still  he 
most  severely  felt  in  the  d;iys  of  youth,  when  the  frequency 
of  their  occurrence  ha**  not  in  any  manner  strengthened  the 
heart  against  their  impression.  But.  Maria,  you  know  the 
will  of  heaven.  I  need  not  teach  ii  you  ;  it  is  enough  to 
remind  you  of  it;  and  what  is  duty,  you  are  aware,  should, 
nt  all  times,  obtain  the  pre-eminence  over  feeling.'' 

•'  You  are  right,  Mr.  Washington,"  she  replied.  "I  know 
it  is  my  duty  not  to  repine  ai  such  a  dispensation.  I  there 
fore  do  not  repine.  But  it  would  be  unnatural,  nay,  I  be 
lieve  it  would  be  a  breach  of  duty,  not  to  1'eel  for  the  irrepar 
able  lo.-s  of  ,-uch  a  friend." 

••To  feel  is.  indeed,  natural,"  said  Washington;  "nay, 
not  to  feel  would  argue  an  insensihiltv  of  heart,  unamiable. 


52  THE    \\  iL0LKNi;sa. 

offensive,  and  culpable.  But  you,  Maria — ah  !  you  do  nut 
possess  this  ;  but — but — forgive  me — I  would  say,  that  you 
should  not  call  this  loss  irreparable.  Providence  can  repair 
it  tenfold  for  you.  Ah  !  Miss  Frazier  !  you  can  never  want 
friends.  Every  one:  \viio  sees,  who  hears  you — but  I  will 
nut  now  talk.  so.  I  wish  to  say,  that  I  do  not  blame  your 
manifestation  of  feeling  on  this  occasion.  Nay,  it  pleases 
me  to  behold  it.  I  esteem  you  the  more  for  it.  Oh,  Maria, 
Maria!  I  would  have  you  to  consider  me  as  one  who  lias 
never  seen  any  thing  connected  with  you  but  what  he  must 
esteem,  and — " 

"  Mr.  Washington,"  said  slip,  interrupting  him,  ••  I  will 
be  candid  and  confess  that  I  believe  you  esteem  me  even  more 
than  I  deserve.  C;.it  you  are  not  acquainted  with  all  my 
weakness  of  heart,  my  lraih\  of  disposition,  and  shall  1  add, 
the  errors  into  which  T  am  conscious  of  having  fallen — " 

•'  Accuse  no!  thyself  unjusiiv,"  said  a  voice  behind  ihern. 
They  turned  round,  and  beheld  Tonnaleuka.  "  Child,  accuse 
not  thyself  unjustly,"  continued  the  prophet ;  I  know  every 
action  of  thy  life;  I  know  each  affection  of  thy  heart:  nay, 
I  know  almost  the  verv  thoughts  of  thy  soul;  and  I  know 
thou  art  as  innocent  and  pr.re  as  the  nature  of  thv  species 
will  permit  ;  and  hear  me.  maiden,  if  there  be  on  earth  a 
being  of  human  origin  who  can  mati'h  ihee  in  purity  and 
excellence,  it  is  the  youth  who  now  stands  by  thy  side." 

"Prophet!"   SHU!  Washington,  li  I  pretend  not  to " 

"  Hear  me,  my  sou  !"  interrupted  the  pronhei.  ••  for  I  am 
sent  for,  and  must,  in  h.-^le,  go  to  conduct  thr-  obsequies  of 
the  queen  whom  this  maiden  deservedly  loved  as  a  mother. 
I  know  something  of  mankind  even  in  the  state  you  call  civi 
lization:  and  i  know  somethmg  of  you,  and  can  compare 
you  with  your  brethren,  and  if  I  shonid  ascribe  to  you  moio 
qualifications  than  puriiv  ;  if  1  sh,n>jd  ascribe  to  YOU  pru 
dence,  courage,  humanity,  greatness  ufmui,  and  true  love 
for  your  fellow-men,  and  all  these  in  as  Wgh  a  degree  as  ever 
man  possessed,  I  would  not  ascribe  them  wrongfully  ;  and 
ii  heaven  spares  ihee  to  thv  country,  the  opinions  of  man 
kind  will  confirm  mv  words. 

"  My  son,  hear  further.  1  would  caution  theo  to  protect 
thv  heart.  I  know  it  to  he  in  d.uiger  of  suffering  the  pangs 


THI.     WII.UKRN'ESS.  53 

ui  disappointment.  Beauty  and  worth  may  inflict  a  wound 
which  liiey  cannot  euro.  Adieu  my  children  !"  So  saying, 
Tonualeuka  hastily  proceeded  towards  the  wigwam,  leaving 
AYas'iin^ton  and  Maria  greadv  struck  with  the  plainness  and 
oi'aeular  abruptne.-s  of  his  language  and  manner. 

"Alas!"  ejaculated  Washington,  almost  unconscious  that 
A!  aria  heard  in.n,  '•  he  know.-,  loo  well  the  state  of  my  hean  ! 
but  what  can  be  the  danger  to  wine;:  he  alludes?  Dissapoint- 
m<:'iit  !  ah?,  it  may  be  so  ;  I  may  not  he  capable  of  inspiring 
her  with  —  but,  Miss  Frazier  !  "  said  lie  suddenly  recollect 
ing  him.  ••  i  am  raying,  forgive  me  —  my  concerns  I  will  not. 
obtrude  upon  you  this  evening,  as  yon  may  be  desirous  of 
d  voting  it  (o  sorrow  for  your  lost  friend.  Let  me  only  en- 
:  'hat  you  will  not  indulge  the  softness  of  <n;j  of  to  the  in- 
|-.ry  ui  your  health;  and.  that  in  reflecting  upon  one  lost 
i:  end,  von  will  remember  that  there  are  many  yet  left  you." 

••  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Washington,"  said  ;>he,  '•  for  the  coti- 
s  'lm<,r  idea  :  and  shall  l>e  careful  to  bear  the  goodness  of  God 
to  me  in  this  respect  constantly  in  mind,  so  thai  instead  of 
iiiu  a1  mv  lot,  I  trust  I  will  be  enabled  to  ('eel  yrate- 


Amidst  .such  discourse,  the  road  to  Frazier's  house  was 
OM  passed  over,  and  Maria  retired  for  the  rest  of  the  eve- 
no  io  ner  apartment.  Here,  after  lontr  meditating  upon  the 
ii'iiiiship  and  the  worth  of  Aliiquippa,  her  thoughts  fondly 
irned  \ijion  (Miarle-  Adderly.  the  wnnnih,  the  fervor,  the 
ithl'idness.  the  desdt.'docss  of  his  passion  for  her,  the  eon- 
.-iousuess  of  which  had  n.ow  become  thi;  ureat  solac<-  ol  her 


i  u-nlitied  itself  with  ;d!  her  feelings. 

"Oil,  Charb-s!"  she  exciaiine'l  in  the  fervor  of  her  inedi- 
t  !tious  upon  him,  "  while  thon  liyest  I  know  I  shall  never 
I  :  ilestitiite  of  a  friend.  Oh,  heaven  !  protect  this  object  of 
)'iy  first  and  only  love — for  if  he  were  snatched  from  me, 
liien — then  should  I  indeed  be  miserable!" 

Her  n-tieetions  next  reverted  to  Washington.  "  1  cannot 
:  ul  peici:ive,  "  thoiit'bt  .she,  "  tiiat  this  excellent  young  man 
iovc-s  me.  If,  indeed,  it  were  (lod's  will  i  should  wish 
•iiat  it  were  otherwise,  for,  although  I  may  esteem,  I  may 
idmiie,  his  numerous  and  engaging  accomplishments  and 


54  THE    WILDERNESS. 

eminent  virtues,  yet  I  cannot  leturn  him  love  for  love.  Mi 
heart  cannot  he  his:  it  is  too  sincerely  and  exclusively  given 
up  to  another.  Oh  Washington.  Washington  !  for  thy  own 
sake,  excellent,  admirahle  young  mun  !  how  fervently  do  i 
wish  that  tlion  wouldst  fix  thy  affections  upon  one  who  couhi 
return  them — for  thou  art  worthy  of  being  beloved — alas,  I 
know  it,  and  yet  I  cannot  love  thee.  '' 

She  would   then   reflect  upon  the   transitory  nature  of  nil 
human  enjoyments,  cares,  and  feelings. 

"  How  happy  did  I  long  feel,"  she  would  say,  in  the  pos 
session  of  the   parental  affections  of  that  kind  and  aimiahl" 
being    who  is  now  no    more.      Never   more  will  she  smile 
upon    me,   and  press  me  to  her  bosom  ;   never   more  shall  ! 
listen  to  the    \\ords  of  instruction,   to  the    lessons  of  virtue, 
that  flowed  from  her  lips  !     Alas  ;   those  lips,  and  the   warn 
heart  that  beat  in  that  bosom,  are  now  cold  and   insensible 
and  will  soon  mingle  wiih  their  kindred  earth.     Never  more 
will  they  feel   the  glow  of  affection,   or   utter    the    words  o'' 
kindness.      Never  more    will  they  contrive   benefits   lor  me, 
or  speak  comfort  to  my  soul.     But  why  do  I  say  never?    !•• 
there   not   another,    and   a   happier   world,    wherein    faiihfu. 
friends,   who  are  thus  separated,   are  destined  again  to  nice; 
and  enjoy  each  other's  society  for  ever?'   Yes,  thanks  to  tin 
great    Deity,   there  is   such    a    world  1     .My    departed    I'rieiu' 
beleived  it — Tonnaleuka  believed  it — my  parents  have  taught 
me  to  believe  it — the  sacred  oracles  of  our  faith  confirm  it— 
the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  ;md  the  whole  face  of  nature  show 
it — nnd  ail  our   harassed   feelings,  our   disappointments,   am 
misfortunes  ;   our  bereavements,  our  pains,  and  our  sorrow." 
of  this    world,   nil    find   consolation   and    solace  in  the   ides 
Glory  to  God  for  it!     I  will  cherish,  I  will  dwell  upon  thf 
sweet  reflection,  and  anticipate,   even  here,  !he  delights  of  a 
future  existence  !  " 

In  this  manner  did  Maria  spend  this  evening  ;  while  Wash 
ington    endeavored   to  divert  the  anxiety  which  the  obviou 
import  of  Tonnaleuka's  oracular  expressions  occasioned  i; 
his  mind,  by  trying  to   explain  it  away,  or  at  least   to  attach 
to  it  such  a  degree  of  uncertainty    as  might  still    keep    open 
the  door  for  hope. 

The   prophet    says,    that  I  am  in   danger  of  suffering   ih 


THK    WILDERNESS.  ;>;> 

p:;,!gs  of  dissapointment,  thought  he.  But  he  may  not  mean 
;'.••  kind  ill'  dissapointmenl  which  I  most  dread  ; — he  may 
not  mean  the  disappointment  of  that,  devoted  love  I  bear  i'or 
il  is  young  woman.  Or,  it'  lie  does  mean  ii,  how  can  ho 
know  the  revolutions  of  the  female  heart?  He  mav  be  aware, 
or  may  imagine,  and  perhaps,  alas  !  too  trulv,  that,  she  does 
n ••(  a!  present  love  me.  lint  surely,  if  this  he  even  so,  I 
nny  stiil  hope  for  some  in>od  ;o  -/.rise  from  my  assiduities, 
from  the  fervency  and  fidelity  of  my  passion,  of  which  it 
ii'usi  now  he  my  study  to  convince  her.  She  has  a  good 
In  -an.  and  will  not  bear  to  see  me  draw  out  a  life  of  contin- 
•i'  (1  misery,  when  ii  is  in  her  power  to  relieve  me.  I  will 
trust  in  Providence,  and  hope  that  He  who  m.oveth  all  hearts, 
will  turn  hers  towards  me. 

The  next  day.  Washington  attended  to  witness  the  funeral 
ot  Alliquippa.  She  was  dressed  in  the  full  costume;  to  which 
she  was  accustomed  in  the  days  of  her  urealest  olory.  All 
the  <rreat  men  and  warriors,  together  with  a  numerous  com 
pany  of  the  females  of  her  tribe  \\ere  p resent:  and  her  stic- 
(•'•ssor,  who  was  named  Susquelooma,  a  near  relation  of 
Swannlow  her  husband,  and  who  had  for  .-ome  time  past, 
been  entrusted  with  the  management  of  the  public  affairs, 
a  tended  as  chief  mourner. 

The  bier  on  which  :-he  was  carried  to  the  "rave,  consist- 
(  !  of'  two  long  pules,  joined  together  bv  a  imle  structure 
of  wicker-work,  covered  with  leaves.  Tonnaleiika,  as  ihe 
prophet  ol'  the  tribe,  walked  before  the  procession,  with  his 
sacred  wand  extended  forward.  The  corpse  followed,  and 
close  to  it  the  chief  mourner;  thon  came  ihe  sages  and  elders 
of  the  tribe,  and  then  the  older  and  more  celebrated  warri 
ors  ;  alter  them,  the  younger  and  le.-s  celebrated,  all  m  pair*. 
! 'he  females  ol  the  tribe  then  succeeded,  also  in  pairs,  taking 
precedence  according  to  their  a^e,  or  rather  according  to  the 
<  rder  of  Tonnaleiika,  who  had  arranged  tin;  whole  proceed 
ing.  Washington,  and  those-  of  Gilbert  Frazier's  family 
who  attended,  closed  the  procession. 

They  had   about    half  a  mile  to  go  to   the    burial    ground, 

'vhich  was  a    little    way  up    the    side    of  a  hill    fronting    the 

outheast,  not  far  from  Turtle  Crek.     Here  they  dug  a  grave 

in  such  a  form,    that  when  the   body   was  lowered    in  il,  ihe 


50  THK     VVILDEHNKSS. 

feet  were  considerably  lower  down  than  the  head  ;  and  as  it 
was  turned  somewhat  upon  its  right  side  with  the  face  to 
ihe  rising  sun,  it  appeared  to  lie  in  a  gently  reclining,  rather 
than  a  horizontal  posture. 

When  the  procession  reached  this  lost  abode  of  mortality, 
and  placed  the  bier  with  the  corpse  upon  it  alongside  of  the 
grave,  Tonnaleuka,  waving  his  wand  in  the  air,  addressed 
the  assembly. 

"Brothers  and  sisters,  before  you  commence  your  funeral 
dance,  be-fore  .you  convey  your  beloved  queen  into  her  last 
dwelling,  and -sine  over  her  the  song  of  your  sadness,  listen 
to  my  words. 

"  You  appear  all  to  be  healthy  just  now.  and  full  of  life, 
and  many  of  YOU.  no  doubt,  promise  yourselves  the  eniov- 
rwnt  of  a  long  existence — for  '"here  -ji\:  many  of  you  yet 
youn.<_-.  But  iisir-'i  to  me.  What  avails  health,  or  youth. 
or  the  full  tide,  of  flowing  Mood,  when  ,Maneio  says  you 
must  die  .'  Then  disc  iso  or  accident,  or  perhans  the  hatchet 
of  war,  does  its  duty:  and  then  we  return,  as  the  queen  out- 
sister  has  done,  our  bodies  to  ihr  earth  of  which  th<'v  were 
mad-?,  and  our  souls  to  the  (irea1.  Spirit  who  made  them  iu 
a  manner  he  has  not  revealed  to  us.  Why,  then,  should 
we  be  proud  of  this  life,  or  seek  to  render  any  of  our  feliow- 
mortals,  who  may  enjoy  its  transitory  existence,  miserabl"  ' 
Alas  !  listen  to  me.  The  existence  is  but  transitory,  whe 
ther  it  he  of  joy  or  misery,  that  we  can  experience  here. 
She  who  lies  there.  I  have  seen  young,  happy,  admired, 
and  beloved.  Many  of  you  have  also  seen  her  so.  Think 
of^it,  brothers  and  sisters  :  does  it  not  appear  as  if  it  were 
but  yesterday  ?  But  look  at  her  now  !  Where  are  the 
smiles  which  drew  warriors  after  her? — where  are  the  gra 
ces  which  captivated  counsellors  and  chiefs? — where  is  that 
dignity  of  mien,  and  that  authority  of  expression,  which  both 
men  and  women  delighted  to  obey?  Alas!  they  are  to  her 
as  if  they  had  never  been,  and  to  us  their  existence  is  like  a 
shadow,  passing  only  through  our  recollection,  as  if  we  had 
but  seen  it  in  a  dream  !  Such  will  be  the  fate  of  the  serra 
tions  of  all  here — nay,  of  all  mankind  !  We  are  but  the 
insects  of  a  day — the  fleeting  hour  of  sunshine  passes — the 
night,  of  death  comes,  and  we  are  no  more.  So  rapid,  and 
of  such  little  consequence,  is  our  present  existence. 


THK       WII.DKKVESS.  57 

"  But  listen  to  me,  brothers  and  sisters.  The  manner  in 
whi  -h  we  use  that  existence  is  of  consequence.  And  why? 
]Jer:.i:-e  there  is  anotho>\  and  one  to  which  we  must  imme 
diate  lv  proceed,  and  receive  the  reward  of  bliss  or  of  wo.  as 
we  have  here  earned  it. 

••  !/<ti  it  a«rain  !      Ye  eric1,  e  for  Alliquippa — ye  think  she 

hr>-  been  unfortunate,  in  being- thus  separated  from  you  whom 

oved  to  reside  amonir.      But  hear  me — she  lias  been  for- 

ie  in  the  transition,  because  she  wa-  virtuous,  and  o-ood- 

henrted,  and  did  her  dutv,  and  for  those  things  her  spirit  is 

now    p.:.', 'ivmn-    a  glorious   recompense   from   the   Almio-hty 

Ma.'.eto! 

•-  Then,  brothers  and  sisters,  what  I  would  now  advise 
you  ti>  do.  is  this — When  yon  think  of  her  who  lies  here, 
let  it  he  to  imitate  her  \ir!ues.  You  will  never  then  have 
c  e  to  tear  the  approach  of  death — i:ay,  the  sooner  he 
co|  es.  it  will  he  the  bctier  for  von.  as  yon  will  thereby  the 
pooler  obtain  the  reward  of  your  ;yood  eondect  from  the 
jus  ice  of  the  Creat  Father,  who  will  thfin  receive  you  into 
'hi.=  f;iv<w. 

••  >o\v.  brothers  and  sisters,  you  may  perform  your  so- 
lernnitics,  and  bury  your  qu^en.  I  so  to  worship  the  Great 
Fath.  r." 

•  -I  Mivinsr,  he  waved  his  wand  three  times  towards  hea- 
\  f.  i.  iilcssed  the  assembly,  and  departed. 

Susquelooma  now  look  upon  him  the  direction  of  the 
pr  cei  dings,  niid  the  death-dance  was  immediately  eom- 
nif  need.  It  consisted  in  all  the  warriors  marchinof.  ono 
aft  r  the  other,  in  an  extremely  slow  and  solemn  u:ait,  some- 
what  like  that  adopted  at,  military  funerals  in  Europe,  nine 
til:  es  round  the  bier,  each  warrior  as  he  came  to  ir.  pausing 
io  -pread  hi*  arms  over  the.  corpse,  and  then  raising  them 
mi'!  in-  face  to  heaven,  as  if  to  say.  "  Here  on  earth  is  the 
\><  i\  .  I'M1  there  in  heaven  is  the  soul  :"'  then  tnrnmsv  quickly 
iij  >n  !iis  heel,  and  dra.win^  both  hands  siowlv  from  his  heart, 
'  >  reorcseiit  the  disunion  ol  soul  and  body,  he  clasped  them 
:M'  'in  lirmly  within  each  oilier  as  he  moved  away,  in  order 
to  -how  that  they  should  lie  airain  nni'ed. 

The  body  was  now  lowered  into  the  orave,  into  which 
the  leg;  of  a  deer,  the  winu  of  a  dove,  a  pair  of  moccasins, 


58  THE     WILDERNESS. 

and   a   sirinir  of  beads,  too-etlier  with  some  twigs  oi'  spit- 
wood  and  leaves  of  the  spruce-pine,  were  also  thrown. 

Susquc-looma  and  se\er;d  oilier  chiefs  then  chaunted  the 
death-song,  which  Tonnaleuka  had  on  this  occasion  prepa 
red  for  them.  It. was,  as  nearlv  as  1  can  versify  it  in  <  'r 
lainniaoe.  as  follows.  Jhirmir  its  sinking,  a  number  of  the 
warriors  proceeded  10  cover  the  body  with  earth  in  the 
usual  manner. 

,'h),  Indian  Funeral-Song, 

We  lav  her  in  carlh  whom  our  sad  hour's  deplore, 
Where  the  dust  of  her  lathers  \\as  burifd  !>o;bre, 
And  where,  in  our  turns,  we  shuil  all  of  us  lie. 
Kre  \vo  pass  to  our  sires  in  the  regions  of  ji>v 


We  lay  he.-  low  here—she  whose  charms  could 
The  hearts  of  the  warrior,  the  sachem,  and  sao 
Ah  !    think  of  her  no\v,  ail  ve  \ali;uit  and  u'::y, 
The  charmer  of  hearts  is  a  cold  piece  oi'clay  ! 


How  orient  were  the  virtues  that  iriow'd  in  her  hrcast 


How  sweet  was  the  kindness  ner  visasre  e\pr 


But  ye  of  hor  trihe.  ye  Shannoahs,  deplore. 
She  who  rul-'d  you  with  Jove,  no\v  wili  rule  you  no  more  : 
>)h  !    remember  her  lonfr — and  v,  ith  tears  in  your  eyes, 
As  ve  pass,  strew  with  spice-wo'od  the  ground  where  she  li> 


The  sou-growing  spiee-wood  is  sweet  to  the  smell, 


The  evergreen  pine-leaves  will  constancy  tell- 


Then  both  we  shall  scatter  as  tokens,  to  provi 


That  the  sweets  of  hor  mem'rv  we  ever  shall  lo\ 


The  body  being  now  covered,  and  the  grave  filled  wi 
earth,  a  heap  of  stones  was  piled  upon  it,  in  order  to  mar 
it  out,  so  that  any  oi'  her  tribe  passing  by,  mio-ht  know  whe 
to  pay  the  customary  honors  to  the  remains  of  one  who  h: 
been  long  beloved  and  respected  amongst  them.  The  pn 
cession  then  returned  to  Susquelooraa's  wigwam,  where 


THE     \VILDKUiNKSS.  .)'.* 

was  dispersed,  and  Washington  look  his  way,  with  Paddy, 
Arehy,  and  Dr.  Killbreath,  to  Fra/ier's. 

A»iaria  liad  not  gone  to  the  funeral,  as  she  conceived  that, 
witnessing  the'  solemnities  would  only  have  exposed  her 
spirits,  which  were  now  beginning  to  recover  their  tone,  to 
a  I'd  sh  and  unnecessary  depression.  It  was  not,  however, 
until  the  afternoon  o('  the  iollowiny  day,  tliat  Washington 
too!-'  occasion  to  make  to  her  an  open  avowal  of  his  scnti- 
rnenis  and  wishes  lie  asked  her  to  walk  out,  with  him 
aloni;-  the  hank  of  the  river,  as  doino-  so  miyht  tend  to  re- 
nio\  i.'  that  detrree  of  melancholv  whieli  still  evidently  per- 
vad"d  he.r  mind.  She  readily  complied,  and  they  set  onl 
her. 

!  was  one  of  those  premature  spring  davs  which  some- 
,  in  1'ennsylvania.  enliven  the  irenerallv  severe  inontli 
iarcli,  and  from  their  novelty,  together  with  the  lair  i'acc 
of  verdant  nature  which  they  disclose  just  unveiled  from  the 
ioiiL!  protracted  ceverinu'  oi'  winter's  snow,  make  a  ramble, 
ior  a  short  distance,  very  inviting  and  agreeable.  On  this 
occasion,  Wasliington  and  his  fair  companion  felt  (heir  hearts 
warmed  and  expanded  as  they  beheld  the  symptoms  of  revi 
ving  nature;  that  bloomed  around  them,  although  they  were 
con-eions  that  before1  the  spring  should  really  set  in,  storms 
of  \vmtrv  fierceness  would  a  (rain  overcast  anil  deform  the 
fair  lace  of  things,  and  nip  in  the  bud  the  younj>-  plant  that, 
lion-  rashly  attempted  to  peep  forth,  and  leave;  it  in  a  blasted 
and  undone  state  to  repent  its  temerity. 

'Vashington  intentionally  directed  their  steps  towards  the 
walnut-tree  beneath  whose  hiv.nches  he  hud  first  stopped  to 
<;a/e  upon  those,  charm.-*  that  had  been  fated  to  make  such  an 
im  ,>resion  upon  his  heart. 

••  Here,  Maria,"  said  lie,  when  they  arrived  at  the  spot,  "  is 
ihc  place  where;  1  first  hchelel  you  ;  and  from  that  moment 
to  his.  the1  linage  that  was  impressed  on  my  mind  has  never 
toi  emc  instan!  lelt  it — Ah!  never,  never  \vdl  it  lea\'e  it!'' 

••Air.  Washington,"  said  she,  "1  hesitate  not  to  credit 
yei  ir  assertion  ;  lor  1  know  that  your  mind  is  superior  to  the 
common  custom  in  which  the1  yay  part  of  your  sex,  I  am  in- 
fonncd,  induce  themselves,  of  seizinjr  all  occasions  to  (latter 
niirs,  even  often  at  the  expense  of  truth.  \nd  bc<-:m..r  1  be- 


OU  1HK     WlLL»KRNi,33. 

lieve  you,  and  esteem  you  so  sincerely  as  to  feel  an  ardent 
desiie  fur  your  welfare,  I  will  candidly,  say  that  I  am  sorr- 
you  should  have  viewed  me  in  the  light  you  have.  " 

"  O  Maria!  "  lie  interrupted  her,  "do  not  use  these  chili- 
ing  expressions.  Hu\v  can  you,  it  you  esteem  me,  and  wis  i 
for  my  welfare,  regret  litat  which  hus  afforded  me  the  swec- 
est  sensations  of  my  life  !  that  which,  although  it  has,  imiee<  . 
occasioned  me  many  hours- ul  painful  anxiety,  lias,  never 
theless,  been  -lie  delight  of  my  existence,  the  sacred  chan.i 
which  lias  ofien  buoyed  my  hopes  into  rapture,  and  present 
ed  to  my  enamored  view  the  iovelv  vision  of  felicity  which 
it  might  be  my  lot  to  enjoy  !  Oh  Maria,  do  not  say  you  ai\; 
sorrv  for  this,  !  " 

••.'\ias!    Mr.  AYa^iiinuL.iu:"    sin.-   replied,   "if  i    respecter 
you  less,  1  mi<_'ht  feel  less  sorrow  on  thus  subject.      But  \0' 
de*er\e    to   be    happv,  and  to  make   vou   so.  the   woman   <  : 
your  choice  should  be  capable  of  loving  you  with  an  ardo,- 
equal  to  your  own — with  an  order  of  which  I  feel,  and  ma- 
forc\<-r  feel,  myself  incapable.      In   short,  sir,  it  is  my  eai 
nest  wish  that  yon  should  bestow  upon  a  more  suitable  ob 
ject,  those  affections  of  which  I  run  but  too  conscious  1  aj;. 
not  worth}'. 

'•Not  \\oriiiy!''    he   exclaimed;   "not  worthy   my  affec 
tions  !      Ail,  then,  what  woman  on   earth  can  be  worthy  o 
them.'      Oh,  Maria!    I    have   seen,  I   have  been  acquainted 
with   many  females;   and  i!'  i  were  to  make,  in   your   heai- 
iuo-.  the  comparison  which  my  fancy  has  often  formed  be- 
t\\.-en  you  and  the  fairest,  the  best  of  them,  your  modest; 
would  not  tolerate  it.      You    would    not   listen    to   me — you 
would  command  me  to  be  silent.      Alas  !   to  draw   the   pic 
ture  which  my  imagination  has  formed  of  your  person  am. 
your  virtues,  would  excite  your  incredulity,  and  subject  in 
to  the  suspicion  of  insincerity.      But  with  you,  with  none, 
will  1  ever  be  insincere.      Oh!   if  vou  cannot — '' 

"Sir,"  said  she,  '•  1  must  inUMTiipt  you.  If  I  though1 
you  could  be  insincere  in  any  of  your  professions,  I  would 
abandon  every  good  opinion  I  have  hitherto  had  of  man 
kind.  I  must,  therefore,  believe  that  you  do  entertain  tin- 
exaggerated  and  erroneous  opinion  of  my  good  qualities 
which  vou  mention.  But  this  is  owing-  to  the  generous  im- 


•IHli     WlLDEKJSEhS.  61 

pulse  of  your  nature,  which  has  led  >ou  astray,  and  induced 
yo'i  to  give  me  credit  i'or  excellence*  which  I  do  not  pos 
sess.  Permit  me  to  say.  that  you  do  not  know  me  sufli- 
CH  utlv  to  judire  of  me  accurately.  It'  you  diil,  it  might 
relieve  us  both  of  much  uneasiness.  \  on  would  see  the 
necessity  of  forming  a  better  choice;  and,  because  1  know 
tii;  '  it  would  contribute  to  Your  happiness.,  I  should  rejoice 
th;'  i  }  t.ui  had  done  so.'' 

••Maria!''  he  exclaimed — --Oh.  tantalizing  girl!  Another 
ch')ic".  u;;1  V.HJ  sa\  !  No:  let  heavn  hear  me!  I  swear 
111:1:.  unless  \hou  dost  peremptorily  and  finally  refuse  to  be 
mine.  I  .shall  never  form  another  choice  :  a;.id  even  then. 
•:id  that  ever  be,  whicii  heaven  f<.-rnid,  my  choice  mav 
be  ihe  diciate  of  duty,  but  ].  nc\er  shall  be  impelled  to  il  \>v 
tii  •  warm,  that  irresistible,  feeling  of  heart  and  soul,  which 
ur-es  me  to  sue  thee  to  become  the  partner  of  my  l<.\c.-,  the 
ini>tri.ss  of  my  fortune,  the  fondly-cherished  wife  of  my  bo- 
soi  i.  the  dear,  the  sweet  source  of  all  my  earthly  happiness. 
O.  M  ria  !  \vih  tnou  not  vieM  to  it? — wiit  tho*:  not  become 
mine  .'  This  Wilderness  is  :in  unfit — " 

••  AJ  i.  \ \  •  .  Hit.  i  must 

sp  -i\e  sou — or — or  raiher  to  remind  von,  that 

I  '  r.e  alreadv  said  1  can  feel  j'or  von  everything  but  love. 
Al:.s!  ihat — tiiai  alone  is  imr-ossii;iv — and  \vilhout  love,  how 
co-ild  i  a-sent  to  the  proposals  witli  which  you  honor  me  ? 
NI>,  ,-ir,  1  \vill  subuiii  i;  to  your  own  feelings — without  my 
heart,  would  mv  hand  be  wor  lit:"'.'" 

•'Time,  time,  mv  sweeiesi.  of  maidens !''  crieci  iier  l<>ver; 
"Pine  ;.nd  my  long-continued  anxious  assiduities,  would  ex- 
ci'..'  your  gratitude;  my  sufferings  (>n  \our  account. — oh! 
th  }  nmst  surely  excite  your  pitv,  and  gratitude  and  pitv 
\\'  uid  soon  produce  love.  Oh,  .Maria  !  you  would  not  be 
he  Lr  so  cold,  so  indifterent,  so  cruel  towards  one  so  devoted 
to  \(>u,  a<  ',(ui  expect.  You  could  not — it  is  not  in  vour 
n;i:  'ire — " 

••Ah,  sir!"  said  she.  "you  know  not,  you  cannot  know, 
in  feelings  on  this  subject.  You  may  charo'e  me  with  cru 
el;1/ — alas !  sir,  1  am  not  cruel.  That  1  feel  pity  for  you 
jut  now,  heaven  is  my  witness;  but  that  I  never  can  feel 
lo'  P,  heaven  also  knows." 


04  THE    WILDERNESS. 

••  Maria,  you  talk  mysteriously,"  cried  he.  "Indeed,  my 
love,  I  cannot  understand  you.  You  pity  me.  and  you  will 
never  love  me!  But,  enchanting  maiden,  although  you  say 
it,  I  will  hope  against  it;  and  trust  that  time  will  soften,  your 
heart,  and  dispose  it  towards — " 

"  jNever,  never!  I  cannot  be — "  she  exclaimed,  evident 
ly  much  agitated. 

"  Oh  !  use  not  these  cruel  words,"  said  he,  interrupting 
her  affectionately;  "I  will  not  ask  you  at  present  to  be 
mine.  1  will  have  hope — I  will  have  patience.  But,  oh! 
fly  this  Wildernes,  my  beloved,  for  there  will  soon  be  no 
safety  for  you  here.  Oh,  Maria  !  this  circumstance  is  at 
present  the  jrreal,  the  immediate  object,  of  my  solicitude  ! 
The  legions  of  a  powerful  nation  will  soon  carry  their  thun 
ders  into  this  forest  to  root  their  enemies  out  of  it.  The 
conflict  will  be  dreadful:  and  oh!  to  what  accidents  wilt 
thou  not  be  then  exposed  .'  If  tliou  wilt  not  11  y  from  peril 
as  my  wife,  let  us  persuade  the  whole  of  thy  friends  also  to 
go.  I  will  yield  them  .shelter.  I  will  bestow  upon  them 
comfort  and  abundance  in  a  pleasant  asylum,  where  thou, 
whose  safety  is  more  dear  to  me  than  the  air  I  breathe,  wilt 
have  nothing  to  fear  from  the  evils  of  war." 

"!Shy'  she  replied,  "you  are  kind  and  generous;  but  i; 
is  your  nature,  and  does  not  surprise  me — for  what  virtue 
could  you  display  that  would  surprise  me!  ^  et  1  wouh; 
not  do  mvself  justice,  if  I  did  not,  express  my  gratitude  lor 
the  friendly  solicitude  and  liberality  which  has  dictated  thi« 
proposal:  but  1  cannot  see  that  my  father's  family  are  in 
such  danger  as  to  induce  their  removal  from  a  place  where 
they  ha\e  so  loner  resided,  and  where  they  have  ofien,  in  the 
worst  of  times,  of  late  years,  experienced  safety." 

"The  war  that  is  now  threatened,"  observed  Washing 
Jon,  "  will  be  quite  different  in  its  extent  and  consequences 
from  any  they  have  yet  seen:  and  as  the  sa\age  tribes  thai 
will  be  entrao-ed  in  it  art1  much  exasperated  against  every 
thing- British,  no  doubt  its  ferocitv  will  be  ereatly  aggrava 
ted  beyond  anything  that  has  yet  arisen  from  former  wars 
in  this  country.  Your  family  will,  therefore,  be  more  ex 
posed  than  formerly.  Ah  !  Miss  Krazier,  I  indeed  tremble 
for  your  safety,  unless  you  can  be  prevailed  on  to  leave  thl-' 
place  hrf'ore  rhp  bloodv  <T,I  commences.' 


THK     WILDERNESS.  63 

"Mr.  Washington,"  she  replied,  "peculiarly  circurnstan- 
r-'il  as  my  i'athor's  family  is  in  respect  to  all  the  parties  who 
iikely  to  cnsrasre  in  the  war  you  anticipate,  I  do  not,  sup 
pose,  that,  unless  some  of  them  take  an  active  part  in  the 
Hi.arrc'u  there  is  much  danger  of  our  being  molested.  \\  ith 
tin?  French  and  Indians  we  are  now  on  terms  of  intimacy. 
Our  feelings  and  affections  are  with  the  English,  it  is  true, 
and  the  French  may  suspect  this,. yet  so  long  as  we  join 
neither  party,  1  think  that  neither  will  injure  us.  But  you 
may  lay  your  proposal  for  our  removal  before  my  father. 
With  his  determination  in  this  matter  I  must  ofcour.se  com 
ply;  but  your  solicitude  on  my  account  must  be  kept  alto 
gether  out  of  view." 

"  1  will  try  this  expedient,"  said  he;  •'  1  may  prevail  with 
\  our  father,  and  by  this  means  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeu- 
rm<r  your  safelv,  to  effect  which  was  the  great  object  of  my 
present  visit  to  the  Wilderness." 

Maria  a<jain  expressed  her  thanks  lor  his  solicitude  in  her 
behalf.  They  then  returned  to  the  house,  and  Washington 
soon  found  an  opportunity  of  laying  his  proposal  before' 
1  'ra/ier. 

(Gilbert  hud  long  enjoyed  so  much  .safety  amidst  the  vari 
ous  tribes  of  warring  Indians,  and  felt  himself  at  the  present 
fine,  so  secure  in  the  friendship  of  both  the  English  and 
1  rench,  in  the  event  of  the  war  of  which  Washington  spoke, 
t.'kin»  place,  that  with  the  strongest  expressions  of  gratitude 
to  that  gentleman  for  his  o-enerous  oiler,  he  declined  accept 
ing  it,  and  refused  to  remove. 

"(Jod  has  aye  been  gracious  to  me,"  said  he,  in  reply  to 
Washington's  reasoning,  "since  1  cam1  into  thir  backwoods  ; 
;MI'  though  a'  ye  represent  in  sae  freen'ly  a  manner  mav  be 
t  ne,  yet  I  wunna  noo  mistrust  his  providence;  for  ye  ken 
boo  the  prophet  reprimanded  the  godly  Asa  for  trusting  in 
tue  strength  o'  Egypt  an'  no'  in  the  arm  o'  the  Lord." 

In  addition  to  the  piety  of  Gilbert,  the  wishes  of  Wash- 
i  igton  were,  in  this  instance,  opposed  by  the  policy  of 
I'addy,  who  observed  that  if  they  even  should  consent  to 
remove,  it  would,  under  present  circumstances,  be.  impos- 
Mble  to  do  so  without  the  knowledge  of  the  French,  who 
would  inevitabl  revent  them. 


"  The  day  we  should  attempt  it,"  said  lie,  '-you  may  reh 
on  it,  a  troop  of  horse,  and  a  tribe  of  Indians,  at  the  very 
least,  would  surround  UP,  and  force  us  to  take  up  our  abode, 
not  in  our  own  dwelling  airain,  it  is  true,  but  in  Fort  Du 
Quesne :  so  that  all  we  should  gain  by  the  attempt  would 
be  to  make  them  enemies  who  are  now  our  friends.  ISo," 
he  added  in  a  whisper  to  Washington.  '•  I  think  we  can  be 
of  more  service  to  the  British  cause  by  remaining  here,  and 
keeping  on  good  terms  with  their  enemies,  for  then,  you 
know,  the  opportunity  for  a  little  stratagem  in  Avar  may  be 
more  conveniently  watched." 

Washington  finding  that  he  could  not  prevail  on  the  fam 
ily  to  accede  to  his  wishes,  and  feeling  that  his  duty  to  his 
country  required  his  immediate  return  to  Virginia,  resolved. 
before  his  departure,  to  do  all  that  remained  in  his  power  i<? 
oiled  for  tiie  safety  of  his  beloved,  when  he  should  be  far 
distant,  by  informing  Tonnaleuka  of  the  approaching  dan 
gers,  and  obtaining  from  him  a  promise  to  be  her  protector. 
That  very  evening  Paddy  Fra/ier  procured  him  an  inter 
view  with  the  prophet,  who  seemed  to  enter  into  his  views 
on  the  subject  more  fullv  and  readily  than  either  Gilbert  or 
Paddy. 

"My  son,"  said  Tonnaleuka,  when  Washington  had 
made  his  statement,  "1  know  there  will  be  an  alarming 
time  in  this  quarter,  and  I  fear  that  that  young  woman  will 
be  peculiarly  exposed.  But  make  your  mind  easy.  I  will 
think  of  your  generosity  towards  her  and  her  friends,  and 
shall  not  be  less  solicitous  for  their  safety  than  yourself. 
Hers,  in  particular,  you  may  be  assured  I  shall  watch  over 
with  all  the  anxiety  and  care  you  can  wish.  Ah,  sir!  think 
you  I  can  be  indifferent  to  the  fate  of  her  who  has  grown  up 
from  her  infancy  to  what  you  now  see  her,  under  my  tuition 
and  care  !  Be  satisfied,  1  will  protect  her  as  I  would  the 
apple  of  my  eye." 

"Give  me  one  more  promise,  my  father,  and  1  shall  be 
satisfied,"  said  Washington  :  "  promise  me  that  if  thy  power 
should  fail  short  in  prolei-iiuo  her,  for  thy  will  I  do  not  dis 
trust,  thoii  wilt  give  me  the  speediest  intelligence  of  what 
ever  misfortune  may  befall  her,  so  that  no  time  mav  be  lo- t 
IT  fore  1  r-nn  flv  in  her  deliverance." 


fHK     WILDERNESS.  ("to 

"1  promise  thee  this,"  replied  the  prophet.  ''And  since 
thy  coumrv  will  soon  need  thee  much,  go  now.  attend  to 
her  c:dl,  and  take  my  blessing  with  thee,  and  may  bea\en 
preserve  thc.'c  lonu'  lor  the  benefit  of  millions  !" 

'•Thank  thee,  lather,  and  farewell!"  replied  the  hero, 
and  ihev  separated. 

The  next  morninir  Washington  hade  a  tender  adieu  to 
Maria,  and.  accompanied  bv  Vanbraam,  left  her  abode  with 
;;  heavy  and  anxious  heart,  and  pursued  his  way  to  Mount 
\  ernon.  wliere  he  arrived  in  about  two  weeks,  without 
meeting  with  any  accident. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

\\  h:it!    shall  the  iocs  whom  oft  our  arms  have  humbled, 

\o\v  iriuiiipli  o'er  us  with  impunity, 

And  scorn  tli;it  power  at  which  thev  oft  have  trembled  ! 

i\(i,  no,  liv  heavens  !    we  arc  as  brave  as  ever, 

And  soon  the  proud  destroyers  of  our  brethren 

S!i;il!  fee!  tint  wo  lia\e  \ve:ipons  to  avenge  them. 

SAVELAHOUK. 

Tin-:  intelligence  ol  (Jharles  Adderly's  second  defeat,  and 
r  c;  establishment  of  the  French  in  the  tort  at  the  head  of  the 
<  Uiio,  hud  reached  the  Atlantic  cities,  and  excited  a  "Teat  I'er- 
n, cut  over  all  the  country  east  of  the  Allegheny  mountains, 
Si'vera!  weeks  before  Washington's  second  visit  to  the  \Vil- 
c;< mess.  It  was  indeed  the  anxiety  for  Maria's  safety  which 
ti  ;.-,  iiiieilun'iice  natur.ilix  occasioned,  aiul  the  anticipation  of 
tl  e,  iiation.il  war  which  he.  saw  would  be  hastened  on  by  this 
a  ;uir,  that  acceleiaied  his  visit  ere  the  winter  was  over;  for 
h-'  had  not,  at  first,  calculated  on  paying  it  until  the  sprini: 
opened,  in  order  that,  if  Maria  consented  to  accompany  him 


66  I'JIK     WILDERNESS. 

to  \  irgmia.  the  slate  of  the  country,  tin1  weather,  and  tht 
roads  would  he  better  adapted  lor  travelling.  Before  he  set 
out  lor  the  '.\  ildorness,  his  exertion  and  influence  tended 
much  to  excite  his  native  colony  to  take  the  lead  in  those  ac 
tive  measures  which  were  about  to  be  adopted  for  tho  inllic- 
tioi?  of  British  vengeance  upon  the  F-vnch  ;;'j!.rressors  :  and 
when  he  returned  to  Mount  Version, he  had  the  satisiaetion  to 
find  that  the  regiment  of  four  hundred  regulars  had  been 
raised  by  the  authority  of  the  Virtrinia  Legislature,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  proceeding  against  ti:r;  enemy  as  soon  as 
the  season  would  permit.  Of  this  regiment  lie  had  himselt 
received  the  commission  of  lieutenant-colonel ;  one  Mr.  Fr\ , 
a  military  gentleman,  supposed  to  be  well  acquainted  with 
Indian  aii'airs,  having  been  appointed  Colonel. 

Hostilities  were  not  vet  formally  declared  between  Britain 
and  France:  but  the  British  secretary  of  state  haiLwritH'U  in 
guYi'i^or  Dm  w  id  die  that  his  cabinet  considered  the  atUirk  ot 
the  French  upon  the  Oiiio  Company's  people,  and  tlieii  for 
tifying  themselves  in  l)u  Q'lesnc  as  equivalent  to  the  com 
mencement  of  hostilities  on  their  part;  and  therefore  his  ma 
jesty's  colonies  should  conceive  themselves  a;  full  liberty  to 
attack  and  drive  off  the  aggressors  by  any  means  in  their 
power. 

In  consequence  of  this  authority,  Dinwiddie  indulged  the 
zeal  of  young  Washington,  who  earnestly  solicited  perm  is 
sion  to  march  against  i)u  Quesne  as  soon  as  the  country  wa.- 
fit  to  be  travelled.  His  chief  inducement  for  this  ur^enc) 
was,  that  by  information  he  hail  received  from  Paddy  Frazier. 
he  kuew  the  French  works  at  l)u  Quesne  were  yet  incom 
plete,  but  were  every  day  getting  stronger,  and  as  soon  a-  tin 
season  opened,  the  garrison  expected  to  receive  from  ('ana 
da  a  strong  reinforcement  of  its  force.  If  the  early  part  oi 
the  season  should  therefore  be  permitted  to  pass  away  with 
out  attacking  the  French,  the  probability  was  that  they  would 
soon  become  in  all  respects,  so  strengthened,  as  to  set  an; 
force  the  colony  could  send  against  them,  at  defiance. 

Washington  was  extremely  anxious  for  the  capture  ol  tin 
fort,  for  many  reasons  ;  but  the  one  which  operated,  perhap.- 
the  most  powerfully  upon  his  heait,  was,  the  ide-i  that  In 
such  an  event,  ihe  seat  of  war  might  be  kept  nt  a  distanc- 


IMF     WH.DKRVKSS.  b'7 

!rom  the  residence  of  Maria  Le  Bcenff,  Presqu'  isle,  and  tlie 
plains  of  Canada,  would  then  become  the  theatre  of  conton- 
i'on  ;  while, by  possessing  !)u  Quesne,  its  neighborhood  would 

i njoy  traii(]uility,  as  too  much  enjoyment  would  be  jjivun 
the  enemy  in  the  country  oi'  tin1  St.  Lawrence,  to  allow  them 
cither  leisure  or  means  to  disturb  that  of  the  Ohio. 

True  policy  also  called  tor  the  promptitude  of  action  which 
iie  recommended,  as  a  small  force  might  now  accomplish  what 
in  tin;  lapsee  of  only  a  low  weeks,  a  formidable  army  might 
find  impossible. 

'•  if  you  wish  to  drive  the  French  from  Fort  Du  Quesjie," 
•aid  he,  in  a  memorial  to  the  governor;  "  if  you  wish  to  save 
our  border  settlers  from  the  depredation  and  horrors  which 
••>.vaye  allies  of  our  enemy  meditate  against  them  as  soon 
••s  tin;  season  will  permit  their  eruptions,  you  will  attempt  it 
without  delay.  Time  parses  on,  the  day  fast  approaches  when 
the  Indians  will  strike  their  winter  lent:?,  and  prepare  for  war 
and  devastation.  The  enemy  which  supports  and  encourages 
them  to  mischief,  is  every  day  strengthening  himself;  while 
he  is  yet  weak,  the  means  YOU  can  already  command,  may 
drive  him  from  his  strong-hold,  afar  from  our  borders,  and 
•ouipel  the  barbarous  tribes,  who  do  his  bidding1,  to  remain 
jinetlv  in  their  own  forests,  without  daring  to  search  tor  hu- 
•irui  victims  upon  our  frontiers. 

"  if  on  the  oMier  hand,  you  delay  till  the  fort  on  the  Ohio 
is  completed,  and  until  it  shall  be  filled  with  troops  and 
stores  from  Canada,  the  favorable  moment  will  have  departed 
for  ever,  and  the  power  of  a  nation  may  not  then  be  able  to 
do  what  could  now  lie  done  by  that  of  a  colony." 

lu  consequence  of  these  representations,  Col.  Washington 
was  authorized  to  proceed,  about  the  middle  of  April,  with 
nhout  two  hundred  regulurs  and  some  militia,  with  all  possi 
ble  dispatch,  to  attack  Fort  \)\i  Quesne,  if  he  found  it  advi 
sable,  with  that  f'irc"  ;  if  not,  he  was  to  throw  up  entrench 
ments  a:id  wait  the  arrival  of  Col.  Fry,  with  the  remainder 
o!  iiiean.iv,  wlr:  would  hasten  after  him  as  soon  as  it  should 
be  read"  for  marching.  l>v  this  measure,  it  was  expected 
thai  if  the  French  could  not  be  driven  from  this  station,  the 
hostile  Indians  would  at  lea>t  be  overawed  into  tranquility  : 
and  any  of  the  tribe.-  that  still  fell  a  predilection  for  the  Kng- 
li^h,  r'ncouratred  to  declare  themselves. 


f.S  I  HI'     \VII.nK.R\K<5<=. 

The  young  hero  lost  no  time  in  availing  himself  of  this 
permission,  and  something  less  than  two  weeks  found  him 
encamped  at  a  place  called  the  Great  Meadows,  a  few  inius 
eastward  of  the  Laurel  Hill.  Here  finding  an  eligible  posi 
tion,  he  determined  to  erect  a  fort,  for  the  purpose  of  pro 
tecting  his  horse  and  provisions,  and  also  of  securhur  a  retreat 
for  his  men  in  case  of  disaster.  This  strength,  from  the 
liasie  and  circumstances  under  which  it  was  erected,  he  called 
"  Fort,  Necessity." 

\\  hile  his  soldiers  were  employed  at  this  work,  bein<_r  anx 
ious,  to  ascertain  the  real  condition  and  strength  of  the  French 
garrison,  and  whether  they  were  apprised  of  his  approach, 
he  set  out  on  foot,  accompanied  by  Vanbraam,  both  drest  :]s 
Indians,  in  order  to  reconnoitre  their  position.  When  he  ar 
rived  at  Turtle  Creek,  he  found  that  Paddy  Frazier  had  just 
come  that  very  day  from  J)u  Quesne,  and  was  therefore  able  to 
give  him  all  the  information  he  could  wish.  The  circum 
stances  he  reported,  however,  wer3  not  very  encouraging. 
The  ciivumvaliation  of  the  Fort  was  not  indeed  entirely  fin 
ished  on  the  sides  towards  the  rivers,  nor  had  lii:1  garris  MI 
yet  received  any  ordinance  from  Le  Pcruf:  but  a  day  or  two 
before  a  re-inforcement  of  nearly  live  hundred  men  had  de- 
:-c!-v>.ded  the  Alleghany  river,  and  a  h.rge  supply  of  cannon 
an  d  other  warlike  stores  from  Canada  was  reported  to  be  on 
its  way,  und  daily  expected. 

Wiih  respect  to  Washington's  approach  and  intentions, 
Paddy  rather  believed  that  the  French  were  yet  ignorant.  At 
all  events, 'he  had  heard  nothing  said  of  thorn  while  he  was 
in  the  garrison,  but  he  proposed  to  return  the  next  morning, 
and  by  some  means  to  make  himself  more  certain  on  the 
subject. 

During  the  evening,  Washington  had  the  pleasure  of  en 
joying  in  private,  a  short  conversation  with  the  beloved  of 
his  soul  ;  but  he  found  her  much  averse  to  love  as  formerly, 
although  he  pleaded  his  passion  moie  energetically  and  elo 
quently  than  ever.  She,  however,  with  the  view  of  soothing 
his  wounded  feelings,  and  rendering  her  refusals  of  his  pro 
posals  as  little  oppressive  upon  his  mind  as  possible,  ex 
pressed  so  warmly  what  she  really  felt,  esteem  for  his  virtues 
and  admiration  of  his  talents,  that  although  he  forbore  to  urge 


JIIK    WILDERNESS. 

her  Inrther,  lie  could  not  forbear  to  cherish  some  sweet  hope 
that  the  day  might  come  when,  even  contrary  to  her  own  ex- 
pi  stations,  she  might  feel — .she  mi^ht  acknowledge,  that  she 
loved  him.  Alas,  he  knew  not  how  intensely  and  steadfastly 
s!'e  loved  another ;  and  alas,  by  her  kind  and  amiable,  but 
ill-judged  anxiety  to  save  him  from  the  mortification  of  a 
harsh  refusal,  she  prolonged  those:  hopes  with  which  his  soul 
\  as  loth  to  part,  and  unintentionally,  encouraged  that  fallacy 
cf  expectation  in  his  bosom,  which,  because  it  was  destruc 
tive  of  his  peace,  she  would  have  given  any  consideration  to 
i  oMi.ove. 

In  the  morning,  as  Washington,  in  order  to  pass  the  time 
which  was  now  become  heavy  on  his  hands,  wandered  along 
the  bank  of  the  river,  his  steps  almost  involuntarily  led  him 
t.i  the  spot  where  he  first  beheld  Maria. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  as  he  leaned  against  the  walnut  tree, 
'•  Here  it  was  that  while  standing  in  this  spot,  that  vision  of 
light  so  unexpectedly  burst  upon  my  view  !  There  she  sat,  as 
fixed  to  this  place  1  listened  to  the  tones  of  her  enchanting 
voice.  Ah  !  I  will  never  forget  that  moment  when  she  looked 
up  and  showed  me  a  countenance  of  more  than  mortal  beauty, 
-uch  a  countenance  as  my  imagination  in  its  romantic  mo 
ments  had  often  attempted  to  depict,  but  had  never  before 
-een,  and  till  then,  had  despaired  of  ever  sccincr.  Oh!  what 
varied  sensations  both  of  joy  and  misery  have  I  since  sus 
tained  !  Hut,  alas,  little  of  joy  appears  now  to  be  before  me. 
I  might  have  been  happy  had  I  never  seen  her  :  but  no — 
iliank  heaven  1  have  seen  her,  [  have  conversed  with  her, 
although  it  has  ruined  my  peace  ;  for  such  an  idea,  such  a  lovely 
;dea  as  her  image  alone  could  impart  to  my  soul,  was  ne 
cessary  to  make  me  happy.  She  refuses  me,  alas,  but  she 
•steems  me  and  the  time  may  come  when  her  heart,  may  be 
disposed  to  love  ;  for  heaven  surely  could  not  have  made  her 
so  essential  to  my  happiness,  without  ordaining  her  for  me  !" 

"  My  son,  1  could  wish  thy  hopes  to  be  better  founded," 
said  a  voice.  lie  turned,  and  beheld  Tonnaleuka  beside  him. 

"  Father,  thou  knowest  the.  maiden,"  said  Washington. 
•'  Ah  !  tell  me — thinkest  thou,  can  her  heart  even'  be  mine  .'" 

"My  son,"  repelid  the  prophet,  "  the  chances  are  now 
against  thee,  but  the  fates  may  in  the  end  be  favorable.  I 
will  neither  desire  (.her  to  hope,  nor  to  despair." 


70  THE     WILDERNESS. 

"  But  hear  me,  my  son,  there  is  a  person  concealed  m 
these  woods  from  the  enmity  of  the  French.  He  is  of  a 
generous  and  daring  mind,  a  Briton  like  thyself,  and  like 
thyself,  a  soldier.  He  has  heard  of  thy  coming  with  an  arm 
ed  force,  and  longs  to  join  thee  against  liie  enemies  of  hi.s 
country.  Wilt  thou  receive  him?" 

"  With  great,  pleasure,  and  a  hearty  welcome,  ''  replied 
Washington — "May  I  ask  his  name  '  " 

"  Charles  Adderly,"  returned  the  prophet. 

"I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Washington.  ''He  is  a  young 
man  of  indeed  a  gallant  spirit,  and  will  he  a  real  acquisition 
to  me.  I  have  often  of  late  wondered  where  he  was  con 
cealed.  1  have  heard  of  his  rescue  from  the  P'rench,  ami 
could  not  think  he  had  made  his  way  to  Philadelphia,  other 
wise  it  would  have  heen  publicly  known.  But  where  shall 
I  see  him  ?  " 

"  Let  me  first  inquire  when  you  intend  to  returning  to  your 
nrmy?"  said  the  prophet. 

"  To-night  I  believe  ;  as  it  is  moonlight,  I  think  I  need 
not  delay  longer.  " 

"Then  to-night,  at  ten  o'clock,  he  shall  here  meet  you,  it 
that  hour  answers,"  said  Tonnaleuka, 

•'1  shall  make  it  answer,"  returned  Washington. 

"  Then,  farewell,  my  son,  "  said  the  prophet,  arid  he  dis 
appeared  in  the  direction  of  Turtle  ('reek  ;  and  Washington 
returned  to  the  house,  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  conversing  with 
Maria,  although  he  knew  that  he  must  avoid  the  subject  of 
love.  She  had  walked  out,  however,  and  he  could  not  as 
certain,  or  at  least  he  had  too  much  deliracy  of  feeling  to 
inquire,  in  what  direction  ;  and  he  passed  rather  a  tedious 
and  melancholy  afternoon,  in  company  with  Gilbert  Frazier 
and  Mr:  Vanbraam. 

But  although  Washington  did  not  find  his  beloved,  yet, 
reader,  I  will  tell  you  where  she  had  gone.  It  was  to  the 
place  where  her  heart  was  treasured — the  cavern  of  her  lover. 
She  had  paid  several  visits  to  this  place  of  late,  and  had  in 
dulged  Charles  in  some  very  pleasing  and  interesting  inter 
views  ;  but  she  had  taken  care  never  to  mention  to  him  any 
thing  concerning  the  addresses  she  had  received  from  Wash 
ington,  a?  P!IP  conceived  that  such  information  would  onlv 


THE     WII.DKBNESS  71 

i  ive  iii in  unnecessary  psin.      Tonnaleuka   had  been  equally 

i -'larded  on  this  subject,   so  that   (Jlrjrles  had  no   ronoeptinn 

that  tin:   chief  under   whom    he  was   about  to   volunteer   his 

s  -rviei  s   to  his   country  was  his  rival  ;   and  \\  ashington,  on 

part,  was   altogether   ignorant   thai  the   young   volunteer 

Mir  whom  lie  leh  such  a  high  respect,  \vas  the  only  obstacle 

etween  him  and  iiis  soul's  eh;;:-:   ue^.re. 

Toiitiah'iika  had,   previous  !o  bis  meeiiiur  with    Washing- 

it    the    walnut   tree,   as  we  have   jusl    relaled,    informed 

Maria  of  Charles's  wish,  to  join  ih-,:  Iro'ips  :it  Fort  Necessity. 

tie  havl  air-o  informed  Chari  vicinity  of  Washington 

;  i;  i  UK!  not  object  to  his   joining  him  as  he  considered  it  the 

;l    iiiMbh-  means  i-v  winch  he  could  be  relieved   from  his 

'   inlinement,    PIU!  ^et  out  of  tlic    \\iiderness.      As   to  Maria 

•he  had  been    ahvavs  ;;>,  i';ie  habii.  <;!'  oflering  no    opposition 

: .)  whv.U'ver  I!;L  prophet  approved.    The  matter  war?  therefore 

cc  :  i    •  now  \voui  to  the  i^avein  in    compliance 

•  her  Iver's  r^qiu-ist  io  see  her  before  iiis  departure. 
i;Ah  !    my  love  !  "  s.iid  i'.e.  as  the:  c.onver.-ed  together,  "I 
:ilmu>i  iVi-'i   in.1  -  it  liberty  and  to   lorego   that 

bonorai)le  service,  which  is  now  open  to  me,  since  they  will 
e  purchased  at  the  dear  rate  of  leaving  thy  vicinity,  of  de 
priving  myself  of  those  sweet  visits  with  which  thon  hast 
made  my  asyhim  happy.  Oh  Maria!  honor  calls  me — but 
how  cats  I  think  of  r'-mov  in;r  so  far  from  thee?" 

" '<  she    icMiii-'.-d,  '•  1   indeed   feel    uneasy   at   the 

thought  of  your  being  again  exposed  to  the  hazards  of  war. 
Bui  it  is  perhaps  your  duly,  Tonnaleuka  approves  of  it,  and 
he  !;:iov,-s  better;  at  least  he  can  judge  more  cooly  on  this 
inau.-r  ;'ian  1  can.  I  ray  that  (.»od  may  watch  over  your 


"And  oil  !"  IK;  replied,  •'  may  he  watch  over  thine,  tbou 
ovely,  but  tender  plant,  whom  I  must  thus  leave  exposed  to 
ill  the  rude  siormsof  a  barbarous  forest!  But  my  absence 
diaii  not  be  IOIIL;,  my  love — we  shall  soon  advance  forward 
under  our  pn:den;  am!  heroic  leader,  and  root  our  enemies 
out  uf  their  strong  hub!.--.  " 

••  It  is  a  comibn  to  me.  ihat  you  \\  iii  be  under  such  a  chu  t. 
i  know  him,  my  ('harlen — 1  have  heard   Tonnaleuka   speak 
of  his  'jiialiiie.;,  and  I  am   persinded  tint,  if  wisdom  can  com 
•  }•>- 


72  THE     WILDERNESS. 

mand  success,  and  virtue  deserve  it,  it  will  follow  his  stand- 
are.  But,  Oh  Charles!  he  may  he  successful,  and  yet  tliou 
he  lost,  lost  to  thy  Maria.  Alas!  Alas!  1  cannot  heip  trem 
bling  when  I  think  of  the  niKnerops  acc'dr-n^  of  war  t.n  which 
ihou  wilt  soon  be  exposed/' 

"Fear  not,  my  dear"-!,  usy  hest  beloved ! "  said  Charles, 
much  affected  at  this  manifestation  of  her  concern  for  his 
s.ileiy.  "Fear  not — ihe  God  whom  thon  servest,  and  who 
made  thee  .so  i  so  lovely,  v  ':!  ;  reserve  aie  for  thv 

sake.  '' 

"1  will  never  cease  to  pray  fervently,"  she  replied,  "that 
IK-  may" — and  although  1  cannot  help  suffering  fear  lest 
misfortune  should  assail  the  betrothed  of  my  heart  when  he 
becomes  so  exposed  to  danger,  yet  I  \viil  not  distrust  either 
the  power  or  goodness  of  that  God,  who,  I  know,  i.s  as  able 
to  save  i:;  the  \vhirlwind  as  in  the  calm.  And.  oh  Charles 
—  TT>V  i  conjure  vov,  nevr  to  ce  i  n  :  ;;MII.  and  iin- 

pli  re  him  10  b"  yoiu-  guide,  a>  wHI  ::s  your  guard." 

"Maria,  iny  sweetest  love!"  said  he,  "it  is  mvdutytodu 
KO  ;  and  since  thon  de-  M.  '.><;  mv  duty,  it  shaH 

be  my  pleasure,  my — ' 

"  Oh,  Charles,"  she  hastily  replied;  "  I  trust  -that  it  b.is 
always  been  thy  pleasure.  Oh,  say  not  ';i  it  it  is  to  gratifv 
me  that  you  would  n:;.d%'j  it  eo." 

'•Maria,  hear  me,  rr.y  love!"  «ai-.l  ii- ;  >;  I  nave  never  yet 
been  insensible  to  the  deiioht  that  arises  from  worshipping 
God,  and  I  hone  I  never  shall.  But  to  obey  thy  injunction 
is  in  itself  a  pleasure,  distinct  and  rapturous,  which  until  my 
heart  ceases  to  beat  it  shall  keenly  (eel  ;  and  even  the  first 
of  my  duties,  the  worshipping  of  my  God,  shall  derive  addi 
tional  pleasure  from  thy  commanding  it.  Oh  Maria!  do  not 
think  me  profane  when  I  say  that  religion  appenrs  to  me 
more  lovely  when  it  is  recommended  by  thee." 

They  now  heard  the  steps  of  Tonnaleuka  advancing. 
"My  children,"  said  he,  as  he  entered,  "von  are  now 
about  to  separate.  Let  it  be  with  fortitude  and  resignation. 
The  will  of  heaven  respecting  you  cannot  yet  be  known. 
But  repose  confidence  in  your  Great  Father,  and  serve  him  ; 
•and  whatsoever  accidents  may  befall  you,  be  assured  that, 
although  they  may  produce  temporary  distress,  thev  will  in 
th*  pvd  result  >n  v-i'ir  Listing  .••'H'Hi'ig'o.  t'-i-'h.  '•rich.  \v'.!l 


THE     UTLDF.RNF.S'v  7H 

rver  be  the  happy  fate  of  those  who,  amidst  all  trial?,  main- 
i:iin  their  integrity. " 

"  This,  my  children,  is  my  advice.  I  wish  you  to  attend 
lo  it. 

"  For  you,  my  son,  this  night  at  ten  o'clock  your  chief  will 
ntlend  your  coining  to  the  place  where  I  will  conduct  you. 
He  ivady,  therefore,  to  meet  him — and  study  love  and  obey 
iiiin,  for  he  is  worlhy  of  love  and  obedience.  I  would  also 
•ay,  imitate  his  virtues;  lint  they  are  inimitable. 

•'  And  now.  my  daughter  .said  he,  to  Maria — "  I3id  this 
vomit:  man  farewell,  and  come  along  with  me.  I  doubt  not 
hut  heaven  will  again  grant  you  to  meet,  and  perhaps  at  no 
distant  period." 

"  (Joti  jf rant  it,"  said  Charles — '•  'J'hen  since  it  must  be  so, 
I -ire  well — farewell,  my  love  !" — and  while  he  imprinted  an 
ardent  kiss  upon  her  hand,  she  returned  a  faint  "  farewell." 

She  then  left  the  cavern  \vithTonnalenka,  who  accompanied 
her  until  within  sight  of  her  father's  house,  where  she  arrived 
a  little  before  sunset,  much  to  the  gratification  of  Washing 
ton,  who  began  to  fear  that  he  might  not  see  her  before  his 
departure  ;  and  even  felt  his  mind  agitated  with  doubts  that  she 
mi^ht  have  absented  herself  on  account  of  his  presence." 

lie  could  not  help,  therefore,  manifesting  his  satisfaction  at 
her  return,  by  indulging  in  a  sprightliness  and  gaiety  of  con 
versation  to  which,  during  the  whole  day  he  had  been  a  stranger. 

••  .Miss  Frazier,"  said  he,  1  was  beginning  to  despair  of 
seeing  you  before  I  set  off.  You  seem  to  be  like  the  great 
huntress  of  the  Grecian  mythology,  who  esteemed  the  shades 
for  nothing  so  much  as  their  concealing  her  from  the  eyes  of 
visiters." 

"  1  have  ahvays,  in  good  weather,"  she  replied,"  been  fond 
of  the  woods,  although  t  did  not  seek  them  to-day,  I  assure  you, 
for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  visitors  ;  and  with  respect  to 
those  who  now  honor  us  with  their  presence,  they  are  the 
last  in  the  world  towards  whom  I  should  be  disposed  to  act 
the  part  of  the  shy  Diana.  No,  no,  sir,  they  stand  too  high 
in  my  estimation  for  that." 

"Notwithstanding  which,"  returned  Washington,  "you 
have  for  the  last  six  hours  at  least,  exclusively  favored  the 
rocks  nn»l  ;h^  str^'cn*  with  their  company,  to  I  fie  gn'Ht  di* 


74  THE     WILDERNESS. 

appointment  and  vexation  of  us  your  poor  visitor?,  who  have* 
hi  en  ilie  whole  afternoon  fi  <'!>'.!  i{;-iid  pinirg  so  much  at  v  our 
absence,  thai  we  cor.ii!  have  wished  ourselves  charged  into 
rocks,  am!  irecs,  and  fountain?.  ;',  so  \vc  conid  Inve  enjoyed 
your  presence.  Bui  it  was  perhaps  as  u  ell,  as  \ve  now  enjoy 
it  ilie  more  ^ensil'ly,  on  account  of  having  eo  seveidv  It-it 
the  want  of  of  it." 

•'  I  am  really  glad  that  I  ran  make  anv  other  atonement  for 
my  f-iult,"  replied.  "  But  methinks,  Mr.  Washington,  thai 
if  the  company  had  suffered  so  very  much  fiom  rny  absence, 
it  would  hardly  exhibit  the  contented,  good-humored,  and 
sprightly  countenances  I  now  behold." 

"  It  is  only  when  yon  are  present,  that  yon  can  perceive 
such  happy  countenances,"  said  he,  smiling. 

"  I  acknowledge  it,"  she  replied  ;  "  1  have  not  the  power 
of  seeing  through  hills  and  rocks,  and  cannot  exactly  behold 
felicity  any  where  in  my  presence.  In  some  eases,  however. 
it  m-iy  he  right  to  judge  of  the  past  by  the  present:  and  if 
so.  I  cannot  suppose  that  any  of  you  here  have  been  very 
unhappy  this  afternoon." 

"Ah,  Miss  Frazier  !"  returned  Washington,  "  you  know 
that  the  minds  of  men  are  variable  :  and  yon  have  yourselves 
seen  plants  drooping-  in  the  rain,  that  have  almost  instanta 
neously  erected  their  heads,  and  become  lively  and  gay  in  the 
sunshine." 

"  I  have  seen  such  appearances,"  she  replied  ;  '•  and  I 
believe,  sir,  you  have  not  erred  in  resembling  them  to  the 
fickle  tempers  of  men — a  strange  race  of  beings,  for  so  as- 
siduonslv  avoiding  whom,  I  cannot  but  give  the  woodland 
goddess  you  spoke  of,  some  credit." 

"  I  acknowledge  you  have  the  advantage  of  me  iu  thi.-i 
respect,"  observed  Washington.  "I  cannoi  reiort  upon 
you,  for  I  know  no  one  of  the  soils  who  ever  thought  of 
avoiding  women,  otherwise  I  might  eulogize  his  firmness, 
although  I  confess  that  I  would  heartily  condemn  his  taste. 
But,  alas!  Miss  Frazier.  to  speak  seriously,  it  was  cruel  to 
deprive  me  of  your  company  lo-day.  My  stay  here  must 
be  very  short,  and  I  wished  to  have  all  my  friends  in  thi:. 
place  around  me  while  it  lasted.  0  !  would  uj  heaven  that 
every  member  of  this  family  were  now  at  Mount  \ernou. 


THK    WILDERNESS. 

safely  removed  from  the  havoc  and  distress  which  barbarous! 
\\;ir  has  destined  for  this  quarter  of  the  country.  But  I 
1,-ust  God  will  protect  you,  if  I  cannot." 

•'Ye  wove  a>e  frienly  an'  kin',"  Mr.  Washington,  ob- 
sint-d  Gilbert.  ••;m'  hat  a  £''.<'?  religious  heart  o'  ycie  ain, 
v.Tiiik  I'm  muekle  mistaken  if  God  dinna  Mess  to  ahundnnt 
:y:ng,  as  oor  minister  a;,  '.he  Juniata  used  to  say.  All  ' 
;  's  a  pleasing1  sicht  to  see  a  soldier  wha  fears  naethin'  bur 
to  oilt-Mid  his  God;  an'  I  doot  na  but  he'll,  in  every  strait, 
remember  your  trust  in  him,  an'  keep  you  in  the  hollow  o% 
his  hand,  and  under  the  shadow  o'  his  wings.  For  me,  sync 
\e  hue  ta'en  up  the  sword  in  a  gudc  cause,  to  stop  the  rava- 
L:-S  o'  thir  French  an'  Indians  on  oor  Christian  neighbors, 
I'll  ave  pray  for  your  success." 

Soon  after  this,  Paddy  returned  from  the  garrison.  Wash 
ington  walked  out  with  him,  and  received  the  following  in- 
t<  lligence. 

••  Some  Indians  have  informed  the  Governor  this  very 
day,"  said  lie,  '-that  you  are  approaching  with  several  hun 
dred  Virginians  to  attack  the  fort.  The  whole  garrison  has 
in  consequence  been,  during  the  afternoon,  in  commotion  ; 
and  I  waited  a  couple  of  hours  longer  among  them  than  I 
intended,  in  order  to  see  what  measures  tliey  would  adopt. 
After  holding  councils  of  war,  making  speeches,  and  drink- 
ijg  wine  in  abundance,  they  at  hist  resolve.'1,  to  detach  about 
a  hundred  men  to  watch  your  motions,  impede  your  pro- 
•-,  and  send  you  to  the,  devil,!  suppose,  if  the}'  can. 
Those  fellows  started  at  a  c;u;ck  pace  about  an  hour  and  a 
half  since,  under  one  Major  Jumonvillc ;  and  may  heaven 
send  them  all  safely  into  your  clutches." 

"  I  must  then  return  immediately  to  my  camp,  in  order  to 
prepare  for  their  reception,"  said  Washington. 

"  Wisely  said,"  replied  Paddy  ;  '•  but  you  must  take  care 
not  10  fall  into  their  hands  on  your  way.  Let  me  sec,  they 
have  taken  the  northern  route.  1  suppose,  that  they  may 
.•ome  upon  \  on  imm  behind — though  heaven  only  knows 
what  they  mean.  I'll  watch  them,  howe\i-r.  and  give  you 
'.imely  notice  of  their  movements." 

"  \\  e  must  now  set  oil,  and  endeavor  to  auml  them  as 
well  as  we  can,"  observed  Washington.  •' The  uighf  will 
'•\\«r  us,  in  case  thrv  cojne  upon  our  course." 


7*5  THE     \vn,DER\ES8. 

"There  are  private  and  near  paths,"  said  Paddy.  "Let 
me  think  a  moment — can  I  not  prof  ure  you  a  guide  ? — Doctor 
Killbreath,  or  Arcliy  ?  No,  the  Doctor's  too  ignorant  of  the 
country,  and  Archy  is  a — blockhead.  I  had  better  conduct 
you  myself,  till  you're  out.  of  danger:  and  then,  trust  me, 
sir,  I  shall  soon  scent  the  designs  01"  the  Frenchmen." 

•'  Tin's.  I  b;  iir-ve,is  the  best  arrangement,"  replied  Wash 
ington.  "1  thank  YOU,  Mr.  Frazier,  for  your  zeal.  \  lion,- 
it.  shall  yet  be  in  my  power  to  reward  you." 

••  As  yoti  choose  for  that,"  said  Paddy. 

"  The  sooner  we  are  olT  now  the  better."  observed  Wash 
ington.  -•  if  Mr.  Adderly  were  here,  I  think  we  iniyht  pro 
ceed  iiniiH-diately." 

"Mr.  Adderly!"  i-i-'turned  Paddy  with  surprise;  "does 
HP  o-o  with  you  :" 

"  I  am  told  that  such  is  his  desire,"  said  Washington. 

"You  will  find  him  a  brave  fellow,"  o!)servi;d  Paddy; 
"  worth  a  dozen  Frenchmen,  so  lon<r  as  he  has  nothing  to 
do  but  lio'l't.  But  as  to  warcraft,  sir — why  he  can  no  more 
think  of  overreaching  an  enemy,  than  of  eheatintr  a  cred 
itor.  He  will  make  a  daring  soldier,  but  a  confounded  bad 
leader." 

"He  has  honor  and  courage, "  replied  Washington.  "He 
has  also  talents  and  education  of  the  first-rate  kind;  and  it 
he  disdains  low  cunning-,  permit  me  to  say,  that  it  is  only 
what  every  o-reat  leader  should  do.  Foresight,  prudence, 
coolness,  fertility  of  invention,  and  promptitude  of  excution, 
which  are  the  great  requisites  of  a  commander,  are  in  no 
respect  akin  to  fraud  and  deception.  But  we  will  not  waste 
time  on  this  subject  at  present.  Paddy,  is  it  not  near  ten 
o'clock?" 

Paddy,  pulling  a  watch  out  of  his  pocket,  observed. — 
"Let  us  see  what  this  madam  savs.  I  just  set  her  by  the 
dial  at  the  onrrison  to-dav.  The  moon's  pretty  clear — I 
can  discern  it  :  it  appears  to  be  within  about  ten  minutes 
of  ten." 

"  We  must  then  be  off,"  said  Washington — "  Let  us  call 
Vanbraam,  and  bid  adieu  to  our  friends." 

So  saying,  he  hurried  into  the  house,  bade  a  hasty  fare 
well  to  Mnria  and  the  rp«t  of  the  family,  and  set  out  for  rlu. 


THE     WILDKRNFSS. 

\v  Inut  live,  followed  by  Vanbraarn  and  Paddy.  Tonna- 
ie 'ka.  and  Charles  had  arrived  there  a  few  minutes  before 
tli.'rn.  The  two  youn<i  heroes  received  ouch  other  with  a 
wrm  and  hearty  jrreetinfr;  and  the  prophet  pronouncing 
his  benediction  upon  them,  left,  them,  and  they  set  forward, 
P.  ddv  leading  the  \vav.  at  a  vi<rorous  pace,  for  the  precincts 
oi  port  Necessity. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

V'r-t  cautions  ns  in  !<),°in.'ui's  land, 

Lord  M:>ni'ion':;  order  speeds  the  band, 

Some  opener  ground  to  jr.iin  ; 
And  scarce  a  furlong  had  they  rode, 
When  thinner  trees,  receding  showed, 

•\  litlie  woodland  plain. 
,lu<l  in  thai  ;ulvanta;Teous  glade, 
The  iiainnu  tio'ips  a  line  had  made, 
.'>:-  fnii'i  from  ih.i  oijfiositiu1  shiidc 

:  nl 

Sr  .rr. 

PADOV  continued  to  o'uide  our  parlv  through  unfrequented 
y  T'hs,  and  ofien  no  ptitlis  at  all.  amidst  an  uninterrupted  and 
^'lent  forest,  over  hills,  precipices,  dingles,  vales,  creeks  and 
r'.vinrs,  until  he  deposited  them  in  Fort  Necessity,  a  dis- 
1  >nce  of  nearly  seventy  miles,  in  little  more  than  twenty-four 
hours  after  their  leaving  Frazier's.  During  their  journey 
they  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  auythinij  of  the  French  de- 
r  ichmcMit,  nor  had  anv  intelliiTence  concerning  it  reached  the 
I  'ort. 

The  whole  of  that  niirht,  however.  \\  ashinoion  took  ef 
fectual  measures  to  prevent  a  surprise,  and  the  next  morning 
r^addy  Frazier,  together  with  several  other  scouts,  were  sent 
to  ranp-p  th*3  coun'r\'  in  search  of  the  enemy. 


78  THE    WILDERNESS. 

As  a  few  days  before,  Washington  hod  the  misfortune  to 
lose  by  sicklies?  one  of  his  oiiicers,  a  captain,  named  Stew 
art,  he  had.  now  an  opportunity  of  manifesting  his  regard  for 
ChnHfs   Add"i!vby  bestowing  upon   liini   the   vacant  com 
mission,  ihcn  fore,  now  felt  himself  in  that  honor- 
on  .,(  life,  winch  was  perlce'lv  suited  io  his  ardent 
and    !                            'sition.      lie  was  now  a.   soldier,  and   an 
nice  of  his  country,  and  ui,;l:  r  a  leader  who 
im  wi:h  his  friendship,  and  for  whose  pre-emine:-? 
and  virtues  he  was  hiii-.ressed  \vith  th"  run  s\  profound 
admiration  and  respect. 

It  wr.s  about  nine  o'clock  ;.t  night  when  Paddy  Frazier 
entered  Washington's  qua;  iers.  \\jtli  information  concerning 
the  enemy,  lie  had  discovered  them  about  mid-day,  as 
cending  the  w  •  oi'  die  Laurel  Hill,  and  lit1  kept 
them  in  view  the  whole  afternoon,  until  he  saw  {item  en 
camped  in  a  narrow  .  vi  ra]  mih-s  eastward  of  the  hill, 
and  on  hour's  march  from  th:  For;. 

Paddy  described  the  ground  on  which  Ji;m'>r,vi'.ie  had 
encamped  his  men,  in  &\  nner  that  Was! 

mediately  perceived  the  prac'.icahiiify  oi  sei/ing,  during  di>-' 
niglit.  uno  •  irrounded  them,  and  .-ni'iirisin? 

them    into    a    surrender    in    the   morning,   perhaps,   without 
bloodshed.      \\:    accordhio'iv.  without  delay,  placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  about   t\vo  hundred   men,  and  pr< 
the  spot.      It  was  on  the,  margin  of  n.  sr.ia.H  i)ro<'-«,  am 
sisted  of  a  llat   pice"  .-:d,  noi  n. 

wide,  covered  on  both  the  east  anci  \*  i  st  \>y  iuol,  aou  a'orupt 
hills,  which  rendered  it  one  oi  the  best  places  that  could  nr- 
found  for  concealment,  but  one  of  ihc  worst  for  escape. 

After  silently  and  cautiously  reconnoitering  the  u;round. 
Washington  detached  nearly  one  iialf  of  his  troops  under 
the  charge  of  a  trust)  officer,  by  a  circuitous  route  through 
which  they  were  guided  by  Paddy  Frazier,  to  take  posses 
sion  of  the  western  height,  while  he  himself  with  the-  re 
mainder  occupied  that  on  the  ea-'i. 

During  the  night  his  humanity  prevented  him  from  attack 
ing  the  French;  for  he  reasonably  expected  that  when  the\ 
should,  in  the  morning,  perceive  themselves  so  completely 
hemmed  in  by  a  superior  force,  without  any  means  left  for 


THE    WILDERNESS.  79 

epher  escape  or  resistance,  they  would   surrender   without 
iriunu  occasion  for  unnecessary  slaughter. 

His  expectations  wore.  1o  a  ore  at  extent,  although  not  al 
together,  realised.  The  Fri  ncii,  indeed,  wort:  much  aslon- 
is.icd  when  the  dawn  ai*co\  en d  to  their  viev,'  the  adjacent 
lu  • '.rli  ts  glittering  witli  the  weapons  of  war,  and  the  British 
colours  floating  at  intervals  all  around  them.  Their  com 
mander,  however,  who  was  oi'  a  brave,  but  rather  harsh  tem 
pi  r,  felt  more  chagrin  and  irritation,  than  despondency  at 
the  circumstance.  He  rejected  Washington's  summons  to 
surrender  at  discretion:  and  with  the  very  forlorn  expecta 
tion  of  throwing  the  Virginians  into  some  confusion  which 
mioflit  facilitate  his  escape,  he  ordered  an  attack  to  be  madr* 
ii'ion  a  companv  which  guarded  the  lower  entrance  into  the 
defile.  This  company  was  under  the  charge  of  Charles  Ad- 
di'rly,  beside  whom  1'addy  Frazier  happened  then  to  have 
stationed  himself. 

••  Damn  that  scoundrel  Jumonville  !"  cried  Paddy,  as  soon 
as  he  observed  these  mo'ions  of  the  French.  ;t  He'll  sacri 
fice  his  men  to  his  madness,  and  give  us  trouble  too.  But 
I  I  pop  a  ball  into  his  cap,  to  teach  him  sobriety." 

The  next  instant  Paddy's  rille  was  at  his  eye,  and  .lu- 
immville's  brains  were  scattered  on  the  ground.  The  at 
t;  i'k  in  consequence  of  this  accident  was  suspended,  and, 
ai'ier  some  little  parly  in<r,  the  French  surrendered  them- 
Si  Ives  unconditionally  prisoners  ol  war,  and  were  soon  lod- 
C'i'd  in  Fort  Necessity. 

The  sun  of  prosperity  seemed  for  several  davs  to  brighten 
more  and  more  upon  the  British  cause.  The  day  alter  cap- 
t'.rinif  the  French  detachment,  the  remainder  of  the  Virgin- 
i  n  reinment,  that  was  to  follow  under  Colonel  Fry,  joined 
t  ieir  companions;  but  the  Colonel  had  died  on  the  march, 
:  ul,  very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  his  soldiers,  the 
.-ile  command  now  devolved  upon  \\  ashington.  The  num- 
I  "rot  his  troops  was  also  augmented  a  lew  days  afterwards 
I  v  the  arrival  ol  two  regular  companies,  one  from  the  co- 
l.'iiy  of  New  \  ork.  and  the  oilier  from  South  Carolina;  for 
bv  this  time  all  the  colonies  had  become  interested  in  the 
f- 1  niggle,  and  resohcd  to  support,  Virginia  in  her  etlbrls 
:  gainst  the  common  enemv. 


8U  uiK   WIIOI;RM>'.. 

Having  now  a,  force  of  nearly  six  hundred  men,  tolerably 
well  appointed  with  every  material  I'or  war  except  cannon, 
of  which,  however,  he  knew  that  I)u  Quesne  was  also  des 
titute,  Washington  resolved  to  proceed  westward  to  the  at 
tack  of  that  post,  or  if  that  should  be  found  imprudent,  to 
cut  oiF  whatever  supplies  mijjht  be  sent  to  its  aid  from  Le 
Bofiuf  or  (Canada.  At  the  very  worst,  he  conceived  that  he 
could  at  least  seize  upon  some  favorable  position  which  he 
mijrht  fortify,  as  a  countervailing  strength,  nnd  where  he 
could  maintain  his  ground,  and  keep  the  enemy  in  check, 
until  he  should  be  re-inforeed  from  the  east.  A  scarcity  of 
provisions,  which  be<ian  to  be  felt  in  his  little  armv.  was  ihe 
only  thinii  that  (rave  him  uneasiness,  and  seemed  to  call  for 
a  postponement  of  his  design.  But  he  trusted  that  a  sup 
ply  would  soon  follow  him,  as  lie  had  expressly  and  ur 
gently  written  to  Governor  Dinwiddie  on  the  subject;  and 
he  fcaivd  much  that  even  a  short  delay  mio-ht  allow  the  Ca 
nadian  reinforcements  to  enter  l)u  Qucsne.  and  thereby  ruin 
every  prospect  lie  might  have  of  dislodging  the  enemy  from 
thence,  for  that  campaign. 

In  the,  mean  time,  he  knew  that  Paddy  Fra/ier,  who  had 
returned  to  his  father's  the  day  succeeding  the  capture  of 
Jumonville's  party,  was  keeping  an  active  and  vigilant  eye 
upon  the  proceedings  of  the  French.  He  therefore  felt 
confident  that  they  could  take  no  step  of  importance,  or  re 
ceive  any  considerable  accession  of  force,  without  his  ob 
taining  the  speediest  intelligence  possible  on  the  subject. 
So  loni>-  as  Paddy  was  silent,  he  had,  in  consequence,  a  right 
to  presume  that  the  French  were  yet  unrecruited  and  inac 
tive. 

These  reflections,  and  his  extreme  solicitude  to  clear  that 
quarter  of  the  country  of  the  French,  induced  him  to  pro 
ceed ;  and  about  the  latter  end  of  June,  he  commenced  his 
march  westward  with  all  the  troops  he  had,  except  one  com 
pany,  which  was  left  to  protect  the  fort  from  any  surprise. 
On  the  second  day  of  their  march,  however,  when  they  had 
proceeded  only  a  few  miles  to  the  west-ward  of  the  Laurel 
II ill.  Paddy  Frazier  met  them  with  intelligence  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  stop  their  further  progress. 

lie  said,  that  "the    French   having  only  two  day"    before 


THE     Vvir.nERNEGS.  81 


'•i  ,-eived  their  long-expected  supplies  from  Canada,  had  al- 
••••  ily,  with  a  force  of  noarlv  a  thousand  Europeans  and  as 
in  nv  Indians,  commenced  their  inarch,  to  meet  the  British 
ai-d  could  not,  be  more  than  half  a  (lav's  journey  distant." 

•  the  circumstances  in  which  his  army  was  then 
]>\  !•••<!,  Washington  considered  that  this  \v.is  indeed  alarm- 
i'1  iuiellij'vncc.  Their  bread  was  altogether  exhausted, 
an  I  tlieir  supply  of  meat  was  become  verv  scanty.  If  the 
Kr.'iich  should  by  any  means  get  to  tiie  eastward  of  them, 
w  >ich.  bv  the  aid  of  the  Indians,  who  were  well  acquain- 
te  :  with  the  country,  and  their  own  superior  numbers,  they 
in  j;ht  easily  do.  any  supply  of  provisions  or  other  stores 
that  might  !)e  sent  from  Virginia,  would  inevitably  be  inter- 
•i  ited,  unless  convoyed  by  a  stronger  escort  than  there  was 
anv  reason  to  expect  would  accompany  it. 

As,  however,  Washington  was  very  reluctant  to  com- 
m<-nec  a  retrograde  morion  solely  on  his  own  responsibility, 
h  iwe\'er  necessary  it  might  be,  lie  thought,  proper  to  call  a 
!•••  incil  oi'  war.  before  which  lie  laid  all  t'u:  circumstances 
oi  their  situation,  and  his  own  opinion  as  to  the  necessity 
re'reat. 

••(iod  is  my  witness,''  said  he.  in  concluding  his  address 
!<  the  council,  "that  there  is  no  one  here1  who  feels  more 
n  iiictant  to  embrace  sue!',  .1  measure  than  I  do.  My  whole 
h  an  has  become,  bent  on  relieving  ibis  country  from  the  in- 
li  sence  of  the  i^rench  :  for  while  they  rule  here,  I  know 
\v  'II  that  Indian  outrages  will  never  cease  to  alllict  our  fron- 
ti'  rs.  and  entail  upon  our  back-settler.-,  a  precarious  and 
wretched  existence.  I5ut  we  must,  at  present,  yield  to  the 
imperious  mandate  of  fate.  The  force  of  the  enemy  is  over 
s',  lelming.  In  Fort  Necessity  we  may  be  able  to  defend 
o  rselves  until  our  friends  send  us  succors,  which  we  have 
eery  reason  to  expect  cannot  now  be  long  delayed. 

••  Thus,  gentlemen,  f  have  laid  before  yon  the  real  na- 
t':!V  of  our  situation,  and  the  measures  which  it,  appears  to 
I)!-1  the  preservation  °'  0111'  troops  require  us  to  pursue.  [ 
now  submit  it  to  your  decision,  whether  to  adopt,  the  disa- 
oreeable  alternative  ol  returning  to  our  for!,  which  I  have  re- 
c  'ininended,  or  of  pushing  forward  or  remaining  where  Ave 
are,  and  thereby  temp!  destruction,  either  from  the  hand  oi 
t'<e  enemy,  or  the  mure  terrible  one  of  famine." 


S2  THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  council,  after  a  very  short  deliberation,  resolved  unani 
mously  that  a  retreat  was  necessary,  to  afford  them  any 
chance  of  avoiding  capture  or  destruction.  It  was  there  lore 
immediately  commenced;  and  .Fort  .Necessity  saw  them 
again  enter  its  ramparts,  about  lour  days  after  they  had  left  it. 

There  was  only  one  individual  in  the  wiioie  hand  who 
felt  the  disappointment  occasioned  by  this  unfortunate  turn  ol 
affairs,  as  acutely  as  Washington  himself,  and  he  did  so  he- 
cause  his  feelings  arose  from  the  same  cause;  this  was  Cap 
tain  Adderly.  With  hopes  highly  elated  in  his  breast,  lie 
had  expected  in  a  few  days  to  have  been  again  stationed  he 
side  his  Maria,  not  as  an  absconder,  who  feared  to  shew  his 
head  above  ground,  but  as  an  avowed  soldier  of  his  country, 
able  to  protect  the  object  of  his  affection  from  any  species  01 
insult,  whether  offered 'by  Christian  or  savage.  Now  he  had 
to  retreat  from  the  superior  force  of  that  enemy,  whose  con 
irol  in  the  country  was  the  only  obstacle  to  his  happiness 

Washington's  feelings  ran  much  in  the  same  strain,   onh 
he  had  an  additional  burthen  of  public  solicitude  and  gnei 
for   the   miseries    1o  which  he   saw    that,  thousands   of  his 
countrymen  would  in  consequence  of  his  failure  in  this  ent^r- 
prise,  be  doomed.      He,  however,  even  at  this  early  period 
of  his  career,  began  to  practise,  in  an  extraordinary  manner, 
the  virtue  of  self-command  for  which  he  afterwards   becami 
so  remarkable.     Ai  this  time,  when  his  heart's  tender  affec 
tions  were  undoubtedly  stronger  and  more  tried  than  eve; 
they  were  during  any  subsequent  period  of  his  life,  when  h< 
cherished  an  ardent  desire  to  be  near  his  Maria,  and  to  pei 
form  every  thing  that  promised  to  secure  her  safety  diirin; 
these  times  of  trouble  and  peril,  he  never  permitted  her  ide 
for  one  instant  to  interfere  with  his  duty  to  his  countrv,     .No 
although  no  man  ever  loved  woman  more  fervently  and  let1 
derly  than  he  loved  Maria,  yet  still  his  country  was  the  mis 
tress  to  whose  service,  whenever  she  pleased  to  call  uno'. 
him,  he  resolved  to  devote  himself  in  preference  to  any  otiie- 

As  he  expected  soon  to  sustain  an  attack  at  the  post  \\- 
now  occupied,  he  kept  his  men  busily  employed  in  impnn  nv 
its  strength.  Its  defences,  which  were  of  the  stockade  kinn. 
had  been  hastily  erected,  and  were  very  incomplete,  and  h. 


THK     WILDF.KMiSS.  83 

h:r  ii'U  yet  been  able  to  deepen  ils  trench  sufficiently  to  oiler 
much  obstacle  to  ttie  enemy,  His  troops  were  all  /ealous, 
in  nbeyin<T  his  directions,  and  exerted  themselves  so  industn- 
oh-ly,  mat  every  hour  appeared  to  add  to  their  seeuriy. 
Tne  ollicers  themselves  made  great  personal  exertions  on 
this  occasion,  and  with  great  alacrity  set  the  common  men 
an  tx,;:;inie  of  manual  !. 

Ymonir  others,  Charles  AdueYiv  hail  one  day  wrought 
vt-ry  perseverino'ly  at  the  trench,  wi.cn  feeling  fatigued  to- 
v\''rds  t!ie  evening'-,  an;i  wishing  to  enjoy,  for  a  short  spare. 
tl::>  luxury  of  meditating  in  solitude  upon  Maria,  he  descend 
er  a  su-ep  deelivitv,  at  a  small  distance  from  the  fort,  to  tin-1 
fji'.'e  of  a  brook  which  there  worked  its  silent  passage  b«- 
n<'ati!  a  verdant  covering  of  hazels  and  aider  bu.-iieH. 

On  a  small  grassy  bank  he  threw  himself  down,  beneath  a 
(Miiopy  formed  by  the  intertwining  branches  of  these  shrubs 
r  luxuriant  foliage-  of  which  scarcely  permitted  the  rays  of 
the  sun.  at  that  tune  soiling  in  {Treat  magnificence,  to  reach 
him.  lint  if  they  had  reached  him,  all  glorious  and  striking 
ly  i-eauiiiul  as  the  appearance  of  that  hnninaty  then  was,  it 
( mild  not  have  attracted  his  attention — for  that  attention  was 
ii  >\\  firmly  rivetted  upon  an  object  to  him  more  attractive, 
lively,  and  endearing,  than  any  other  created  being  he  could 
hahoicl. 

"Alas.''    thought   he;  "and   am  I    doomed   to  be  cut   off 
from  her   presence!1      Is  she  lated  thus  to  reside   within  the 
i"ach  and   under  the  power  of  an  enemy,  whose  outrageous 
and   ruiiian    tempers    are    but  too    well   known.'     Ah!    what 
'  -oublc.-,  and    persecutions    will  she  have  to  Miller,   if  her  en- 
(  hauling  beauties  should  happen  to  excite  the  passions  of  an) 
i>t  'these  unrestrained  and  lawless  Frenchmen?  Oh,  my  (?od 
here  is  destruction,  there  is  fren/y  in  the  idea.     Heaven  \>" 
er\e  her  1'rom  such  trials  !  '' 

"  Ah,  then,  you  dont  like  Frenchmen,  dont  you  .'  "  exclaim- 
•  •(1  a  voice  suddenly;  and  before  he  had  time  to  yet  on  his 
feet,  two  men  had  rushed  upon  him.  He,  however,  by  a 
rapid  exertion  of  strength,  soon  {{ot  one  of  them  beneath 
him  ;  but  the  other  was  about  plunging  a  danger  into  his  body, 
when  lie  was  forcibly  seized  round  the  waist  by  a  man  who 
lifted  him,  dagger  -ind  all,  into  the  air'  exclaiming— 


H4  THE     WILDERNESS. 

"By  Jasus  1  two  to  one  is  ibul  pla\ ,  uiv  honey — would 
you  kill  the  gentleman? — Ah  !  blood  and  thunder  !  is  it  my 
master,  you  thieves  ?"  was  the  next  exclamation  ;  "  then  to 
the  devil  with  your  damned  carcass  !  " 

That  instant  the  suspended  Frenchman  was  dashed  vio 
lently  upon  the  ground,  and  the  next  his  own  dagger  was 
buried  in  his  heart. 

"  Huzza  Cor  old  Ireland  '  "  cried  the  victor,  whom  thr 
reader  must  have  perceived  was  Paddy  M'Fall.  "  I\ow, 
master,  i'or  tiie  other  rascal  !  " 

"-Not  so  fast,  my  brave  Peter,"  cried  Charles,  "he  calls 
ior  quarter.  '' 

"  By  the  holy  Bridget !  then  I'll  quarter  him  in  a  ]ifly,  "  re 
turned  Peter  attempting  to  strike  at  the  Frenchman.  Charles' 
body,  however,  acted  as  a  shield,  and  Peter,  though  he 
niadeseveral  efforts  could  not  effect  his  purpose.  At  length 

Charles,  in  an  authoritative   manner,  said 

"  I  order  you,  Peter,  to  desist  and  leave  this  man  to  me. 
You  see  he  is  disarmed,  and  defenceless.  It  would  be  mur 
der  to  kill  him  !  " 

"Murder  to  kill  a  Frenchman!"  exclaimed  Peter — "by 
my  sowl  that's  a  new  doctrine  !  But  if  he  \vas  the  devil,  you 
may  save  him  if  you  wish  it,  my  honey  !  But  what  will  you 
do  with  him  ?  " 

"I  will  have  you,"  said  Charles,  to  throw  down  that 
weapon,  and  catch  him  bv  the  shoulder  or  the  neck,  if  you 
think  proper,  only  dont  strangle  him,  and  push  him  before 
you  to  the  fort  yonder,  where  we  will  dispose  of  him  as  may 
be  found  suitable. " 

Peter  leapt  upon  the  captive  as  a  tiger  would  upon  his 
prey,  and  seizing  him  by  the  collar  with  his  risi'ht  hand, 
drove  him  before  him  in  great  triumph,  occasionally  giving 
him  a  shake,  and  a  kick  upon  the  breech  wiih  his  knee, 
while  the  Frenchman,  very  much  to  the  delight  of  his  tor 
mentor,  roared  out  pileously  for  mercy. 

Upon  his  examination  at  the  fort,  the  prisoner  acknow 
ledged  that  he  and  his  slain  companion  had  been  set  forward 
by  Monsieur  De  Villiers,  who  was  at  the  head  of  an  army 
of  French  and  Indians,  amounting  to  nearly  two  thousand 


IFIF.      WILDKKNEStf.  Hf) 

in  I'll,  to  reconnoitre  (lie  position  and  strength  of  the  British 
u;ider  colonel  Washington;  and  that  they  had  the  whole  of 
ih  it  day  been  concealed  in  the  hollow  where  they  had  fallen 
ii:  with  captain  Adderly,  and  only  waited  for  the  coming  of 
niuht  to  approach  nearer  the  works  and  explore  them  more 
minutely.  He  also  stated  that  the  French  army  could  not 
be  far  distant ;  and  if  they  did  not  delay  for  the  return-  of 
tlp'ir  spies,  they  might  advance  to  attack  the  fort  the  next 
day. 

To  account  for  the  unexpected  and  timely  approach  of 
IVter  MT'all  to  his  master's  rescue,  I  must  inform  the 
reader  that  Air.  Gist,  to  whose  house,  it  will  be  remem 
bered,  he  had  been  conveyed  by  Paddy  Frazier,  for  the 
pin-pose  of  keeping  him  out  of  the  way  of  mischief,  under- 
st;  miing  that  provisions  were  scarce,  and  consequently  dear 
a'  the  fort,  had,  while  the  main  body  of  the  troops  were 
absent  on  the  excursion  that  has  been  mentioned,  visited 
tin'  garrison  in  order  to  dispose  of  some  of  the  productions 
of  his  farm,  and  had  been  there  informed  of  Charles  Adder- 
ly's  situation  in  the  armv.  He  communicated  this  intel 
ligence  to  L'eter,  who  immediately  resolved  to  rejoin  his 
master.  lie  accordingly  bade  a  tender  adieu  to  the  fair 
lv--ther  (ii-=t,  whose  charms  had  made  him  forjret  those  of 
A  illy  M \\iekle,  and  starting  for  Fort  Necessity,  which 
was  not  more  than  liftcen  or  sixteen  miles  distant,  arrived, 
as  we  have  sr-cn,  just  at  the  critical  moment  to  save  his 
master  from  destruction.  lie  at  once  resumed,  verv  much 
to  the  satisfaction  of  both  parties,  his  old  station  as  the  faith 
ful  and  favorite  servant  ol  Charles  Addrrly. 


THE     WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

\I  length  the  i'ri'<ti:iiiiig  western  !I!;IM, 
Aside  the  shroud  ot'lKittle  cast; 
And  first  the  ridge  of  njiimled  spears, 
Above  the  bright'ning  cloud  appears  ; 
And  in  the  smoke  the  pennon's  lieu. 
As  in  the  storm  the  white  sea  iiiexv. 
Then  mark-d  thev,  dashintr  broad  and  fur. 
The  broken  billows  of  the  war- 
Wide  rose  the  battle  on  the  plain. 
Crests'  rose,  and  stoc'i'd,  and  rose  ;igain. 

SCOTT. 

Tin:  information  which  trie  ruptured  Frenchman  had 
given  of  the  vicinity  of  the  enemy,  was  found  the  next 
morning  to  bo  correct.  The,  dav  had  searcelv  dawned, 
\vhen  Washington  received  imellirrenee  from  some  of  the 
out-posts  that  tlie  hostile  standards  were  approaching,  and 
that  the  woods  to  a  considerable  extent,  seemed  to  be  alhe 
with  French  and  Indians.  The  irnrrison  was  immediately 
under  arms,  and  everv  man  at  his  station,  expecting  a  severe 
eonilict,  but  resolved  to  do  his  duty,  so  that  if  the  enemy 
should  prevail,  thev  should  pay  deaiiv  for  their  victors  . 
Their  defences  wore  far  from  being  complete.  The  trench 
had  not  been  altogether  cut  round  the  stoccade,  in  a  few 
places  ii  was  'barely  marked  out,  and  in  none  was  it  so  deep 
as  to  he  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  assailants.  The  stoccade 
was  itself  very  imperfect  in  many  places,  there  being  yet 
several  gaps  entirely  destitute  of  stakes.  The  hostile  force 
was  at  least  three  to  one,  and  was  equally  well  appointed  in 
all  the  implements  of  war.  But  brave  men,  although  they 
may  see  clanger,  never  lose  courage;  and  Washington  with 
great,  promptitude  and  coolness,  made  such  judicious  ar 
rangements  for  receiving  the  assailants,  that  confidence  was 
inspired  in  every  one  of  his  men,  and  even  hopes  of  victory 
began  to  actuate  their  bosoms.  In  order  to  animate  them 
still  more,  their  heroic  commander,  after  each  company  had 


THE    WILDERNESS. 


received  its  instructions,  and  taken  its  station,  addressed 
to  it  a  short  speech,  reminding  the  soldiers  that  upon  their 
valor  and  good  conduct  that  dav,  the  safety  of  a  thousand 
innocent  Christian  families  upon  the  frontiers  depended. 
"Think,"  said  lie,  in  sonic  of  these  short  addresses,  '•  on  the 
consequence  of  our  being-  defeated  on  this  occasion.  Hordes 
of  merciless  savages  will  be  let  loose  upon  your  defenceless 
\\ives  and  children,  who  \\ill  riot  in  their  destruction,  and 
will,  ore  they  send  their  victims  to  eternity,  inilict  on  them 
every  species  of  torture  they  can  invent.  Oh,  I  therefore 
conjure  you,  my  fellow-soldiers,  to  be  steady  and  strong 
to-day,  and  if  possible,  save  your  country,  and  her  children, 
fr •!!!  such  calamities." 

As  the  enemy  was  advancing  in  a  direction  where  the 
d-.'ch  was,  to  a  considerable  extent,  between  four  and  five 
fr  :t  deep.  Captain  A  elderly  was  there  s::uioned  with  about. 
a  hundred  marksmen,  who  were  instructed  to  conceal  them 
selves  by  remaining  in  a  stooping  posture  until  their  adver 
saries  approached  so  near  that  there  would  be  no  danger  of 
their  tire  missing  them,  when  they  should  open  it  with  as 
s  .;  and  steady  an  aim  as  possible.  Each  of  these  marks- 
i  .  was  supplied,  in  addition  to  his  rifle,  with  a  loaded 
inusive,.  so  that  the  party  could,  without  intermission,  pour 
upon  their  enemies  two  successive  discharges;  or  if  it  should 
Ir;  necessary,  meet  them  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The 
remainder  of  the  troops  kept  within  the  stoccade,  ready  also 
t  i  give  tiu:  foe  a  iiery  and  deadly  salute,  whenever  he.  should 
\  -aimre  near  enough 

These  dispositions  on  the  part  of  the  Virginians  were 
f-  -,arcely  made,  when  the  savage  war-whoop  was  heard  be 
f.veeu  nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  at  the  dis- 
i.mc.e  of  about  six  hundred  yards  from  the  ditch,  the  enemy 
)  ailed,  and  a  voiles  from  a  thousand  muskets  was  instantly 
poured  upon  the  stoccade.  Some  of  the  badly  fixed  piles 
v/eio  overthrown,  and  live  or  six  of  the  Virginians  killed  bv 
tfiis  discharge.  They,  however,  coolly  reserved  their  tin; 
lor  sonic  minutes,  unld  the  assailants,  encouraged  bv  this 
lorbearance,  advanced  rapidly  to  svnhin  about  a  hundred 
*  aids  of  the  ditch,  when  Captain  Adderly  gave  a  prccon- 
•erted  signal  to  his  marksmen,  and  thai  insi-mt.  a  hundred 


THE    WILDER  A' ESS. 

Frenchmen  pressed  the  "round.  Thev  paused  lor  a.  mo 
ment,  and  were  inclined  to  fall  back,  hut  De  Villiers  sup 
posing  the  Virginian  rifle:'  to  he  now  unloaded,  urged  them 
forward  to  storm  ihe  fort,  when  they  were  again  sainted  hv 
a  volley  from  both  the  ditch  and  the  stoceade,  which  level 
led  nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  more  of  them  to  the  earth. 
De  Villiers  now  conceived  it  prudent  to  avoid  that  fata! 
ditch,  and  attack  the  fort  in  another  quarter.  He  accord 
ingly  drew  off  his  men  from  the  reach  of  the  Virginian  fire, 
which  movement  allowed  Adderly's  marksmen  an  opportu 
nity  to  !'ck,ad  unmolested.  The  enemy  now  keeping  at  ••. 
respectful  distance  from  the  fort,  marched  towards  its  south 
east  quarter,  where  thev  hope;!  to  find  it  more  easily  as 
sailable.  But  when  opposite  this  quarter,  although  thev 
perceived  its  ramparts  to  be  less  complete  than  elsewhere, 
\et  being  ignorant  of  i!;e  depih  of  the  ditch  that  fronted  it, 
they  for  several  hours  manifested  a  shyness  to  approach, 
lest  similar  volleys  to  those  they  had  so  fatally  experienced 
from  Adderly's  men,  should  issue  from  it.  They,  however. 
kept,  up  an  irregular  and  very  inefficient  fire  from  behind 
the  shelter  of  trees  and  long  grass,  upon  the  garrison,  which 
the  latter  seemed  to  lake  very  coolly  and  patiently,  never 
reluming  it  except  when  some  of  the  .Indians  or  French 
came  within  hitting  distance  of  their  marksmen. 

Towards  the  alter  pait  of  the  clay,  as  if  this  apparent  con 
tempt  shown  by  the  yarnson,  had  at  last  roused  and  irritated 
him  to  a  greater  boldness  and  energy  of  action,  De  "V  illicit 
came  rapidly  on  with  his  whole  force,  seemingly  resolved  to 
take  the  place,  cost  what  it  would.  But  here  also,  captain 
Adderly's  marksman  lay  in  wait  for  him.  They  discharged 
their  rifles,  a:,  before,  but  the  enemy  had  not  come  in  such  a 
compact  body,  and  therefore  although  they  lost  a  number  of 
men,  and  were  for  a  moment  made  to  recoil,  th^y  soon  re 
covered  their  order,  and  pushed  forward  regardless  of  dan 
ger.  Even  a  second  volley,  although  it  told  fatally  upon 
them,  was  not  sufficient  to  check  their  progress,  as  their 
v.  hole  force,  Indians  as  well  as  French,  seemed  to  be  in 
spired  with  a;;  absolute  contempt  of  destruction. 

In  a  minnie,  the  enemy  had  named  the  edge  o!   the  ditch, 
and   the   ritle«  of  Adderlv's  men   were  unloaded  ;   bul    (lieu 


Kiyonets  were  fixed,  and  a  cheveaux-de-frise  ul'  that  formi 
dable  weapon  instant!  •/  presented  itself  against  them,  over 
wluch  u  was  impossible,  for  tlu:  French  to  proceed. 

About,  a  hundred  bavonets.  however,  could  not  defend  the 
whole  trench  agai  .  .  is  now  as 

sailed  it.  and  several  sti  os  of*the  French  were,  in  n 

moment,  at  other  points  attempting  to  cross  it.  These  were 
instantly  attacked  wit'n  a  heavy  lire  from  tir1  stoccade,  not- 
wiihs;»nding  which,  upwards  of  live  hundred,  led  on  by  l)e 
\  illicrs  in  pe- r.- 0:1,  had  succe  tscending  into  the  e'itch, 

and.  would,  perhaps,  have  made  their  way  into  ;he  lort,  had 
not  V»"as.iingloii  pr  ii!:|.uiv  e'lai^ini  liiem,  at  tise  head  of  about 
one  nundreii  and  lil'iy  men,  with  ii.\cd  bayonets,  before  they 
eouhl  ,isce:id  io  the  level  ground.  '1'his  riiariie  was  assisted 
at  a  a  very  eriticai  in^Mient  \>Y  a  well  directed  ilre  i'ro:a  the 
.Ne'A'  York  i>,  W\K  '.Ian  the  stoccade.  Dr. 

I-'il!iers,  was,  in  <  ons  iquenee, obliged  t;)  withdraw,  alter  leav- 
in«r  between  iifty  a.ui  sixty  of  bis  men  dead  on  the  s|)oi. 

Captain  Adderl y,  much  about  the  same  tune,  had  driven 
oil'  tin;  party  with  which  he  had  been  engaged.  Not  content, 
however,  with  this  advantage,  his  impetuosity  induced  him 
to  follow  the  enemy  upon  the  open  space.  He  accordingly 
sprang  out  of  the:  trench,  and  calling  on  his  men  to  follow 
him,  he  wa>>  obeyed.  The  enemy,  who  were  at  least,  three 
to  one  against  him,  turned  upon  hi:-,i.  and  his  small  band 
would,  in  all  probability,  lia\e  been  cut  to  pieces,  had  not 
\Vashington  perceived  their  danger,  and  with  the  hundred 
and  iiliy  Virginians  :iiat  had  driven  off  l>c  \  liiiers,  lieu  ;;» 
their  aid,  and  the  enemy  thought  proper  to  retire  to  the  .-lici- 
ts.T  of  the  wood*,  which  iiiev  did  in  loleraiils  good  oicier; 
not,  however,  betbre  Captain  Adtlerly  and  Monsieur  ,lonc;ine 
h;,(i  met  in  a  single  combat,  and  the  latter  had  been  hewn  to 
the  eirih,  receiving  a  dreadful  fracture  in  the  skull,  of  which 
he  died  a  lew  days  afterwards. 

i>oih  Washington's  and  Adderly's  parties  now  returned 
to  their  old  stations,  as  pursuing  a  hostile  force  upon  exposed 
ground,  who  were  so  much  their  superior  in  number,  and  as 
well  furnished  for  battle  as  themselves  would  have  been  ab 
solute  madness. 

A  cessation  ol    the   attack  now  look    place,  and    Washing- 


90  THE     WILDKRNKSS. 

ton  had  time  to  inquire  in:o  the  real  position  of  affairs. 
Between  sixty  or  seventy  of  his  men  were  killed,  and  up 
wards  of  a  hundred  so  badlv  wounded  as  to  he  incapable  of 
service.  Tne  enemy  were  repulsed,  it  is  true,  hut  there  was 
every  probability  that  t;  i  renewed  the  next 

day  ;  and  if  the  nssnilant?  should  happen  to  direct  their  force 
to  the  quarter  where  t;  --ness  of  the  trench  would 

permit  them  easily  *o  pas  !.     If,  on  the  other 

hand,  thev  should  he  too  nr.  ;;'.ed  hv  the  warm  re 

ception   t!i!-.y  i.ad   ji  to 

storm  the  place,  and  should  cor;1;  elves  with  block 

ading  it,  and  cutting  off  its  expected  supplies,  the  surrender 
of  the  garrison  must  be.  equal!  v,  nay. porhaps  more  inevitably 
certain,  as  it  did  not  possess,  at  that  moment,  more  than  three 
day's  scanty  allowance  of  provisi 

The  only  chance  of  extrication  fro; a  the  v  difficulties. 
Washington  conceived  would  he  a  renewal  of  ihe  attack  of 
the  enemy  upon  the  same  poin's  ru  which  they  had  already 
made  it.  This  would  afford  his  troops  an  opportunity  of 
again  repulsing  the  attacks  of  the  assailants,  and  perhaps 
compelling  them  to  abandon  the  e!iierpri;e.  I'  was.  there 
fore,  his  great  object  to  prevent  t~:em  from  discovering  the 
great  weak  parts  of  his  defence:  and  lie  accordingly  ordered 
that,  during  tiic  night,  these  should  he  partieubrlv  guarded 
from  tiie  approach  of  spies  and  reconnoiterers. 

\\  hile  lie  was  making  arrangements,  for  preventing  a  sur 
prise,  a  trumpeter  approached  from  the  French,  who  were 
encamping  in  the  woods,  about  eight  or  nine  hundred  yards 
distant,  demanding  a  parley,  and  permission  for  an  officer  to 
enter  the  fort  in  order  to  negotiate  for  its  surrender. 

Washington  promptly  refused  to  grant  the  last  request. 
He  declared  that  he  would  permit  none  of  the  enemv  to  enter 
the  (ort  without  detaining  him  there  as  a  prisonor:  and  that 
if  the  French  commander  was  serious  in  his  desire  to  nego 
tiate,  he  must  give  a  passport  for  a  British  officer  to  proceed 
to  his  camp,  ior  the  purpose,  and  also  his  witness  parole  for 
his  safe  return.  Washington's  caution  in  this  matter  arose 
from  his  unwillingness  to  expose  the  incompleteness  of  his 
works  to  any  of  the  enemy,  and  it  also  occurred  to  him  that 
this  request  for  negotiation  might  he  a  contrivance  ot  DP 


THE     WILDERNESS.  91 

Villiers  to  discover  any  assailable  quarter  for  a  new  attack. 

De  Villiers,  however,  granted  the  parole  required,  and 
Captain  Adderlv  was  appointed  to  wait  upon  him,  and  ascer 
tain  lite  terms  he  had  lo  propose.  Those  terms  being  very 
little  short  of  absolu'.e  surrender,  v.  ere  quite  inadmissable  ; 
and  Washington  instructed  Charles  to  "  inform  tlio  French 
commander,  that  unless  lie  greatly  humbled  his  views,  and 
modeialed  his  pretensions,  an  aUernpt  to  negotiate  was  only 
u.reie.'-s  trouble,  and  should  be  no  longer  attended  to." 

This  reply  induced  Villiers  to  conceive  that  the  British 
were  r.iiore  confident  of  being  able  to  resist  him  than  he  ex 
pected,  ilo  therefore  in  a  second  message,  did  lower  his  tone 
considerably,  offering  lo  permit  the  garrison,  both  officers 
and  privates,  on  giving  their  parole  not  to  serve  in  this  coun 
try  diiain  during-  tj  >.,--•  continuation  of  the  present  contest, 
against  the  French,  or  their  allies,  permission  Lo  return  to  their 
several  homes,  with  such  provisions  as  were  necessary  (or 
their  journey,  but  without  any  oi  their  arms  or  military  stores. 

"Tell  Monsieur  De  Viiiicrs,"  said  Washington,  after  hear 
ing  these  proposals,"  thai  he  very  much  mistakes  both  our 
situation  and  our  dispositions,  if  he  calculates  on  our  aceept- 
inir  such  terms.  Ti;e  only  terms  I  shall  accept  are  these, — 
That  we  shall  be  allowed  ti,e  honors  of  war,  permitted  to 
retain  our  arms,  bagy^ye,  and  stores  of  every  kind  ;  and  also 
to  take  our  own  ii;ne  to  march  without  molestation  back 
to  \  ir^inia.  Rather  than  capitulate  on  any  other  conditions, 
1  sbali  bury  myself  and  every  man  who  shall  adhere  to  me, 
amuist  the  ruins  of  our  Fort.  Do  Villiers  need  not,  there 
fore,  trouble  me  wi  •  answer  tlnn  an  acceptance 
of  these  (>• 

Vv  hen  Captain  Adderly  reported  this  reply  to  i)e  Viiliers, 
"  1'iat  young  Washington  ii>  an  obstinate  commander,"  said 
he,  "•  but  1  .-  ee  be  is  a  brave  one  ;  and  1  believe  I  can  make 
U(>'tiiin.vi  more  of  hint  without  considerable  slaughter.  Let 
hiiM  iiave  bis  terms,  therefore  in  the  name  of  heaven,  so  that 
i  may  not  him  out  of  this  part  of  the 

;>htion  was  accordingly  drawn  up  in  French,  and 
afterwards  tianslat<'d  into  lOnjjlisli,  when  it  was  signed  by  ihe 
ollicers  on  both  .-.ides.  The  next  morning  the  British  re 
moved  all  their  stores  out  of  the  fort,  and  with  their  colors 


'J2  nil-:    u 

flying,  their  mu^te  p'aving,  and  the  troops  marching  in  mili 
tary  array,  they  evacuated  it.  and  paraded  at  some  distance 
beyond  the  French  encampment. 

As  their  horses  were  chielly  either  killed  or  captured  dur 
ing  the  engagement,  they  were  unable  to  carry  oil'  all  their 
stores.  They,  therefore,  to  prevent  them  I'roin  falling  into 
the  hands  of  the  French,  destroyed  the  greater,  portion,  pre 
serving  only  what  they  could  hear  away  on  their  shoulders. 
Thev  then  continued  their  march  homewards,  and  iit  about, 
three  days  after  lenving  Fort  .Necessity,  arrived  at  the  inhab 
ited  parts  of  Virginia. 

All  rank?  of  Colonel  Washington's  countrymen  were  highly 
pleased  vvitlitlte  bravery  and  good  conduct  he  had  displayed 
during  these  transactions  :  and  indeed,  the  whole  partv  re 
ceived  great  applause  for  their  spirited  and  gallant  behavior. 
When  the  legislature  met,  they  expressed  their  satisfaction 
at  what  had  been  done,  by  presenting1  a  sum  of  money  to  be 
distributed  amon<>'lhe  soldiers,  and  passing  a  vote  of  thanks 
to  Col.  Washington  and  the  oliicers  under  his  command,  lor 
the  credit  which  their  conduct  had  reflected  on  their  country. 

To  this  vote  of  thanks,  Washington,  in  ihe  name  of  the 
ofiicers,  made  the  following  reply  : 

"  We,  the  oflicers  of  the  Virginia  regiment,  are  highly 
sensible  of  the  particular  mark  of  distinction  with  which 
you  have  honored  ns  in  returning1  your  thanks  for  our  beha 
vior  in  the  late  action  :  and  cannot,  help  testifying  our  gratp- 
fui  acknowledgments  for  your  "high  sense"  of  what  we 
shall  always  esteem  a  .duty  to  our  country  and  the  best  ol 
kings. 

"  Favored  with  your  regard,  we  shall  zealously  endeavor 
to  deserve  vour  applause,  and  by  our  future  actions  strive  to 
convince  the  worshipful  h^use  of  burgesses  how  much  we 
esteem  their  approbation,  and,  as  it  ought  to  he.  regard  it  as 
the  voice  of  our  country. 

tSi-nied  for  the  whole  corps, 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON."* 

Although,  as  it  is  natural  to  suppose,  the  applauses  be 
stowed  on  this  young  hero,  on  this  occasion,  strengthened  \\i^ 


i  ii  li    \\  II.IH:KNTK$-.  M'.'- 

predilection  for  a  military  life,  yet,  .shortly  after  this,  some 
>mto\vanl  circumstances  took  place,  which  induced  him  to 
relinquish  it  for  the  present,  and  to  retire  to  a  private  station. 
These  were  owing  to  a  controversy  which  arose  between  the 
ollicers  commissioned  by  the  kini>',  and  those  commissioned 
only  by  the  governors  of  the  colonies,  concerning  rank,  the 
former  claiming  prececie.nce  over  the  latter  of  the  same  grade, 
when  acting  together  in  the  same  service.  I  shall  not  here 
••into  the  merits  of  this  controversy,  which  is  detailed 
fully  in  the  histories  of  the  times,  and  which  was  one  cause 
:'.:ii"!i<i-  many  others  that  prevented  more  effectual  measures 
from  beiny  taken  against  the  French  during  the  remainder  of 
ibis  campaign. 

*  'olonel  VVashington  and  Captain  Adderly  took  part  \vith 
tli^  provincial  officers  in  the  discussion  of  this  matter;  and 
as  those  holding  commissions  from  the  crown  al  length  car 
ried  their  point,  these  two  in-ntlemen  retired  from  the  ser- 
vice,  and  manv  oi'  the  "V  iririnian  oilicers  followed  their  ex- 
ample.  (Governor  Dinwiddie  addressed  several  letters  to 
\\  ashin«ion,  pressing  him  still  to  hold  his  commission,  in 
r(-|)l\  to  which  he  asserted  his  unabated  attachment  for  mil 
itary  employments,  and  his  nndiminished  desire  to  serve  his 
In  when  she  needed  liim — "  15 ut,"  said  he,  '•  I  can 
•  Milv  serve  with  pleasure,  wben  it  is  in  my  powsr  to  do  so 
without  dishonor." 

lie  indeed    perceived  that  his  remaining  in  the  service  at 

•his  time  would  be  attended  with  very  little  advantage  to  the 

•    :>lic;   for  ahhoujrh    (-Jreat   iJrilain    bad  now  declared   war 

nst  the    enemv,  and  larirc    European   succors   were   ex- 

nectcd  soo     ti      rrive  in  the  colonies,  yet  the.  councils  of  the 

!atler  were  so  distracted,  and  their  resources  so  badly  mu.ii- 

•U';ed,  that  it  was  easy  to  see  that  no  en  enterprise  of  impor- 

fancf  v.oidd  be.  undertaken  against  the  French  this  season. 

I 'e  \illiers,  indeed,  bad  on  his  part  <riven  occasion  for 
I'one:  lor.  satislied  with  having  driven  \\ashington  out  of 
the  \\ilderness,  and,  perhaps,  concei\  inii-  it  imprudent  to 
maintain  a  station  so  near  the  boi'ders  of  the  British  settle 
ments  as  Fort  jNecessity,  he  relinquished  it  the  very  day 
after  its  capture,  and  retraced  his  steps  back  to  Fort  I)u 
Quesne. 


04  THE    WILDKRNESS. 

Some  Indian  ravages,  it  is  true,  were  towards  the  latter 
part  of  the  season,  committed  on  the  bark-settlers  of  Virgin 
ia  and  Pennsylvania;  but,  considering  the.  failure  of  Wash 
ington's  expedition,  the  frontiers  suffered  infinitely  IPSS  than 
might  have  been  expected.  That  \  dition,  if  is  pre 

sumed,  although  it  had  failod  in  its  primary  object,  had  given 
holh  the  French  and  (lie  Indians  such  a  severe  sample  of 
what  they  should  receive  from  British  vengeance,  if  they 
should  arouse  it,  by  too  much  provocation,  to  the  exertion 
of  its  full  strength,  that  they  thought  proper  to  exercise  some 
caution  and  forbearance  towards  them,  at  least  until  the  sea 
son  should  be  so  far  advanced,  that  the.  colonial  troops  could 
not  n<.rKin  take  the  field.  It  may  be  also  mentioned,  that, 
after  Washington's  resignation,  one  Colonel  Innes  obtained 
the  command  of  the  Virginia  regiment,  which  being  recruit 
ed  and  joined  by  rcvcnl  companies  of  regulars  from  •NJary- 
land  and  North  Carolina,  presented  to  the  view  of  the  Indians 
a  force  which,  although  it  undertook  the  performance  of  no 
thing  important,  was  still  sufficient  to  keen  'hem  in  such 
awe  as  to  restrain  their  depredations. 

Although  the  court  of  London,  as  soon  as  it  found  that 
reasoning  would  have  no  effect  in  causing  that  of  Versailles 
to  relinquish  its  claims  upon  the  Ohio  country,  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  draw  the  sword  in  order  to  accomplish  that  end  ; 
yet  no  European  troops  were  sent  to  assist  the  colonies  to 
drive  the,  intruders  oft'  the  contested  ground  for  several 
months  after  the  war  was  declared,  and  during  the  whole 
of  the  autumn  of  1754  and  the  following  winter,  the  French 
remained  unmolested  in  the  possession  of  the  Wslderness. 

The  family  of  Frazier  continued  as  usual  to  follow  their 
employments  undisturbed  by  the  French,  with  whom  Paddy 
managed  to  keep  on^ne  most  cordial  footing.  The  assist 
ance  he  had  rendered  Washington  never  became  suspected, 
and  both  he  arid  Doctor  Kilbreath  continued  to  trade  with 
them  and  the  Indians  as  freely,  and  with  as  little  fear,  as  if 
they  had  never  taken  any  part  with  their  enemies.  As  to 
the  Indians,  the  friendship  of  Tonnaleuka  secured  theirs  to 
the  family  and  except  the  disappointment  which  Gilbert 
felt  from  the  bad  success  of  his  countrymen,  he  had,  on 
on  this  occasion,  no  cause  for  uneasiness  :  or  at  least  he 


rilK     WILDERNESS.  95 

l.'lt  none  from  apprehension  of  either  his  own  security  or 
that  of  his  family. 

With  respect  to  Maria's  feelings  on  hearing  of  the  trans 
actions  at  Fort  Necessity,  the  uncertainly  uiuler  which  she 
labored  concerning  Char'u.s  Adderly's  fate,  gave  her  great 
uneasiness,  but  that  uneasiness  was  confined  to  her  own 
Iireas*.  Perhaps  on  that  very  account  it  was  the  more  pain 
ful ;  and,  although  she  was  not  without  hopes,  still  her  fears 
of  some  misfortune  having  taken  place  would  sometimes 
amount  almost  to  agony,  and  she  would  have  given  any  con 
sideration  to  he  assured  of  his  safety  ;  nay,  such  is  often  the 
intolerable  nature  of  suspense,  thai,  if  the  worst  had  happen 
ed,  she  would  have  made  almost  any  sacrifice  to  know  it. 
At  length  fortune  had  compassion  upon  her,  and  relieved 
her  anxiety  by  throwing  in  her  way  a  Philadelphia  news 
paper,  which  Paddy  had  procured  from  an  Indian  who  had 
wrapped  it  round  some  articles  of  spoil,  of  which  he  had 
plundered  one  of  the  Pennsylvania!!  settlers  on  the  frontiers, 
about  the  latter  end  of  autumn,  when  several  marauding  par 
ties  of  the  savages,  as  has  been  observed,  ventured  to  make 
a  few  predatory  excursions.  This  paper  contained  the  follow 
ing  paragraph,  which  communicated  joy  to  her  soul. 

••  It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  we  announce  the  arrival  in 
our  city  of  that  gallant  young  man,  Charles  Adderly,  who 
commanded  the  party  sent  out  in  the  beginning  of  last  win 
ter,  to  take  possession  of  the  lands  belonging  to  the  Ohio 
Company,  in  onr  western  wilderness,  and  upon  which  the 
French  garrison  of  Le  IJumf  committed  the  daring  outrage 
which  has  been  often  mentioned  in  our  paper  in  terms  of 
indignation,  and  which  we  rejoice  that  our  mother  country 
lias  at  length  determined  to  chastise,  in  a  manner  becoming 
her  rank  and  dignity  amono-  the  nations. 

"?\lr.  Adderly's  friends  had  been  for  several  months  un 
certain  of  his  fate,  and  their  joy  on  beinu  a<;ain  blessed  with 
the  society  of  one  so  much  valued  and  beloved,  after  lie  had, 
as  many  supposed,  fallen  a  victim  to  savage  revenge  and 
cruelly,  wdl  not  be  easily  imagined.  This  gentleman's  ad 
ventures  in  the  western  wilderness,  during  the  last  winter,' 
we  are  informed,  have  been  of  the  most  singular  and  ro 
mantic  diameter.  Fntil  the  appennnpe  of  the  gallanl  Wash- 


90  TUT:    WILDKRXESS. 

ingtou  in  that  quarter  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  joining 
his  countrymen,  he  owed  his  safety  only  to  concealment  in 
the  lonely  dells  and  darksome  caverns  that  abound  in  that 
dreary  wild,  fiieut,  indeed,  must  have  been  his  sufferings, 
and  miraculous  his  escape;:,  during  the  inclement  season  he 
was  obliged  to  seek  shelter  in  such  hiikhitr  place-.-. 

"  We  frus!  thai  Mr.  A.dderlv,  or  some  of  his  friends,  -will 
one  da}-  favor  the  public,  with  a  narrative  of  his  adventures, 
during  his  excursions  to  the  wesi.  We  are  persuaded  that 
there  are  none  but  would  feel  extreme! v  interested  iu  the 
perusal  of  such  a  work." 

The  information  thus  obtained  having;  tranquilized  Maria's 
mind  concerning  her  lover's  safety,  and  no  accident  of  a 
serious  nature  occurring  to  her  during  the  winter,  she  passed 
it  with  as  much  satisfaction  and  ease  of  mind  as  in  Charles's 
absence  could  be  reasonably  expected.  This  absence,  how 
ever,  it  must  not  be  denied,  occasioned  her  many  an  hour':-: 
anxious  meditation  :  and  when  in  good  weather  she  would 
take  a  ramble  through  her  native  woods,  often  would  the 
recollection  of  her  Charles's  image  melt  her  into  tenderness. 
On  such  occasions,  often  did  she  recall  to  her  thoughts  the 

alteration,  so 


fin:    wn,r>KUNi:33. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Oh  !    thou  pole  orb  that  silent,  shines, 
While  care-untroubled  i;  nrtals  sleep  ! 


Thou  seest  a  \\reich  Unit  ir 
And  wanders  here  to  \va 

With  wo  I  iiisilitly  vitrils  ki 
Beneath  thv  \van  mi\vr;rn 

And  rnonrn  in  lamentation 
ilo\v  life  and  love  are  br. 


y  pines, 
and  weep  ' 


a  dream. 

BURNS. 


THERE  is,  perhaps,  no  dass  of  brings  in  the  world  move 
npt  to  lie  tormented  wiih  incidents  that  are  nt  cross  purposes 
with  their  wishes,  tlmii  hirers.  It.  would  ho  easy  to  prove 
the  truth  of  this  assertion  hv  a  thousand  examples:  but  it 
would  be  too  tedious  u  business.  I  shall,  therefore,  not 
prove  it  at  all.  unless  the  following  statement  oi'  some  per 
plexities  that  befell  Charles  Addeiiy  shortly  after  his  return 
to  Philadelphia,  be  received  as  u  proof. 

The  jov  of  his  father  ant!  mother  on  seeing  their  only  son, 
whom  thev  I  inked  upon  almost  as  if  he  had  been  restored 
from  the  ofrave,  once  more  safe,  under  their  roof,  was  such 
as  tender  parents  will  readiiv  conceive.  They  in  a  few 
days  invited  a  lar^e  party  ol  tSvir  numerous  friends,  for  the 
friends  of  the  rich  are  always  numerous,  to  a  splendid  ball 
and  supper,  in  celebration  of  the  joyful  occasion.  This 
brilliant  party  consisted  of  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
and  fashionable  families  then  in  Philifflelphia.  Its  ladies  in 
particular  comprised  almost  all  that  was  beautiful,  tray,  and 
etifrajxinjr  in  iheciiv;  but  amidst  the  whole  fascinating  group, 
there  was  one  object  whom  every  eve  singled  out  as  the 
most  worthy  of  admiration.  This  was  Miss  Arabella  Wai- 
worth,  niece  and  heir:  -'s  to  Robert  \Yalworth.  Ksq.,  reputed 
to  be  the  most  opulent  banker  in  America.  This  young 
lady  had  been  the  only  child  of  John  Walworth,  a  West 
India  merchant,  who  died  in  Jamaica  about  ten  vears  before 


98  THE     WILDERNESS. 

her  appearance  in  the  gay  assembly  of  which  we  are  speak 
ing-,  and  had  left  her  the;  sole  heiress  of  a  property _ said  to 
amount  to  between  thirty  and  forty  thousand  pounds  ster 
ling-.  She  had  lost  her  mother  about  three  \  ears  afterwards, 
and  her  uncle,  the  banker,  had  for  the  last  .seven  been  her 
only  guardian  and  protector. 

Charles's  father  had  long-  contemplated  this  young  lady 
as  an  eligible  match  for  his  son,  and  had  even  gone  so  far 
as  to  secure  the  banker's  acquiescence.  Although  the  old 
gentlemen  had  thus  easily  arranged  the  matter  between 
themselves,  they  had  not  as  yet  imparted  their  scheme  to 
the  young  people;  and  Mr.  Adderly  now  thought  that  it 
would  be  but  fair  to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  getting 
fond  of  each  other,  by  which  means  the  match  would  be 
rendered  much  more  agreeable,  and  easily  effected.  Mr. 
Wai  worth,  who  knew  little  about  the  influence  of  the  tender 
passions,  being  one  of  those  cold-blooded,  good  sort  of  ho 
nest  money-making  men,  Avho  ncjer  feel  any  of  the  sweeter 
and  more  endearing  impulses  of  life,  would  have  gone  less 
ceremoniously  to  work,  and  would  have  had  the  deeds  of 
matrimony  "signed,  scaled,  and  delivered"  without  delay; 
"for,"  said  he,  in  reply  to  some  observation  of  old  Adderly, 
recommending  a  more  cautious  mode  of  proceeding,  "  I  can 
see  no  objection  that  the  parties  to  this  contract  can  have  to 
perfecting  its  obligation,  since  they  must,  each  of  them,  on 
the  first  inspection,  be  convinced  of  getting  value  received,, 
But  as  it  is  a  kind  of  business  in  which  1  have  no  experi 
ence,  being  now  in  my  ilftv-ninth  year,  without  ever  having 
bargained  for  a  wife,  I  will  leave  it  to  your  management,, 
for  you  must  know  better  what  is  needful  lo  be  done  in  the 
premises.  Only  I  wish  you  to  make  every  reasonable  dis 
patch,  lest,  by  keeping  the  bargain  in  suspense,  Arabella 
mav  miss  a  profitable  market." 

"There  is  no  danger  of  that,"  replied  Charles's  father; 
"  your  niece,  you  may  be  assures!?  >vill  for  these  ten  years 
to  come,  be  as  disposable  a  commodity  as  any  of  her  kind 
in  the  province.  But  you  mav  depend  on  it,  Mr.  Wal- 
worlh,  that  T  too  anxiously  wish  her  to  become  my  daugh 
ter-in-law,  to  delay  its  accomplishment  any  longer  than  thf. 
nature  of  the  transaction  will  require,' 


THE    WILDERNESS.  99 

On  the  night  of  the  hull  already  mentioned,  Charles's 
iViher  and  mother  used  every  contrivance  in  their  power  to 
draw  the  attention  of  the  young  pair  toward  each  oilier. 

'•  The  greatest  i'avorite  I  have  in  the  room,"  would  his 
mother  observe,  "and,  I  briieve,  the  best  young  lady  in  the 
ci;y,  is  Miss  ^\  alworth." 

•'  I  have  always  thought  her  an  uncommonly  line  girl,'* 
would  his  father  reply;  " eminently  beautiful  and  accom 
plished,  and  mistress  of  nearly  forty  thousand  pounds  in 
ready  money,  besides  her  expectations  from  the  bankri, 
Charles.  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  secure  this  young  lady  j'or 
your  partner  to-ni<rht.'" 

"  It  she  will  consent  to  it,"  replied  Charles,  very  com- 
plnisantly,  "I  shall  do  so;  for  I  really  believe  her  to  be  a 
verv  amiable  younir  woman." 

'•And  don't  you  think  her  also  handsome?"  asked  the 
father. 

"  \  erv  much  so,"  replied  the  son,  carelessly. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  any  woman  you  thought  more  so?" 
said  the  lather. 

"  That  is  an  embarrassing  question,"  replied  Charles,  in 
.some  confusion,  for  he  thought  of  his  Maria;  "I  request 
time  to  reilect  on  an  answer. " 

"Well,  Charles,  no  matter  about  an  answer;  I  wish 
io  see  her  your  partner  to-night,  at  any  rate,"  observed  his 
lather. 

'•  If  it  be  in  my  [tower.  s;r,"  said  Charles,"  you  shall  be 
gratified." 

lie  accordingly  did,  in  the-  most  polite  manner,  request 
ihe  fair  ladv  to  dance  with  him,  and  was  honored  with  her 
compliance  ;  and  man)  a  gallant  youth  that  night  envied 
his  felicity. 

Charles,  indeed,  found  her  society  during  the  whole  even 
ing  extremely  agreeable  and  interesting;  and  his  native 
politeness  towards  the  sex,  independent  of  a  wish  to  gratify 
his  lather,  induced  him  io-  pay  her  the  most  pointed  atten 
tion.  But  even  at  that  moment,  the  image  of  the  sweet 
maid  of  the  "\\  ilderncss  reigned  triumphant  in  his  soul;  and 
as  he  reflected  that,  while  he  was  thus  surrounded  with 
splendor  and  enjoyment,  she  might  br  ;»  prey  to  misfortune. 


100  rm;    WII.DKRNK-SS. 

perhaps  the  victim  of  lawless  passion  and  barbarity.  he  be 
came  thoughtful,  and  more  than  once,  in  the  rnidst  of  his 
gaycty  and  mirth,  heaved  a  sigh,  which  his  father,  who  oh- 
served  ai!  his  attentions  to  Miss  Walworth.  perceived  with 
great  saiisfaciii!:i,  as  an  indication  (!  "\  already  ivmde 

some  impression  upon  his  In 

ling  la'.lv,  sin',  unfortunately  for  her  own 
peace,  drew  a  similar  conclusion.  She  saw  Charles  Ad- 
derly  ;  she  had  heard  of  his  militarv  etploils,  as  they  had 
been  eulogised  in  the  official  communications  of  Washington. 
He  was  jusl  such  a  man.  hr  was  MI-!  such  a  hero,  as  she 
wished  should  love  her;  and  she  felt,  from  this  nijrht  pin- 
too  unequivocally  felt,  that  she  loved  him. 

Bui.  ahl'ou^h  in  everv  respect  admirable  and  highlv  fin 
ished.  l)o;h  in  beauiy  and  accomplishments,  vet.  even  if  his 
hear!  had  been  disenij  i'v''d.  she  was  not  exact'v  tlie  charac 
ter  that  Charles  Adderiv  could  have  loved.  Her  mami. '-r 
seemed  rather  to  chall^n::'"  and  claim  admiration  and  hom 
age  by  an  assumption  of  dignity,  and  a  display  of  conscious 
superiority,  than  to  adraci  ;,nd  warm  into  fondness  by  an 
invsistible  combination  of  faultless  loveliness,  unaffected 
sweetness,  amiable  humility,  and  a  thousand  nameless  and 
bewitching  graces  that  shone  from  both  the  person  and  the 
mind  of  Maria  l-'ra/ier. 

Charles,  however,  was  pleased  with  the  preference  which 
this  hi<r|]  beauty  of  the  world  of  fashion  in  his  native  citv 
manifested  for  him.  on  this  (;venin;r,  over  me  many  agreea 
ble  ynunu'  men  who  fluttered  r^-'ind  her.  and  sighed  fo  obtain 
from  her  an  approving-  smile. 

As  they  sat  together  during  an  interval  of  dancing,  a 
young  man  named  Morley,  of  good  connexions  and  lar^e 
property  in  the  city,  who  had  been  long-  enamored  of  Miss 
Walworth,  and  had  latelv  made  some  unrequited  declara 
tions  of  his  passion,  approached  and  saluted  them.  Charles, 
who  had  former! v  been  intimate  with  this  youtiir  man.  invi 
ted  him  to  sit  beside  them. 

"  Perhaps  my  presence  will  only  spoil  the  agreeable  im 
port  of  your  conservation,'"  said  Morley,  looking  rather 
discontentedly  at  the  lady. 

"If  you  think  so,  sir,"  she  replied,  "you  know  what  best 


THF.     Wn,T>CR\FS>5.  101 

becomes  you  to  do.  I  presume  Mr.  Morley  has  more  <rood 
breeding  than  to  oiler  his  presence  where  fie  imagines  it  is 
not  wanted." 

••  '  bei"  pardon,  Mis<  \Valwor[h,"  he  replied:  "it  was 
op.lv  mv  le.irs  of  heiii'i  an  intruder  thai  suggested  the  idea. 
1  Captain  Ad;le:iv'  conceive  me  one.  If  he 

-avs  til'.1  \\~ord,  1  .'-hall  i" 

••  i  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  vour  presence,"  observed 
Charles:  neither  do  I.  believe  that  Miss  YTalworth  feels  it 
dis •MjTeenh!,'.  }  on  jnn<t,  indeed,  ?*lr.  Morley,  be  much  al 
tered  since  i  knew  vou,  if  you  have  become  an  unpleasant 
companion." 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  the  gentleman's  company,"  said 
Arabella  ;  "but  he  himself  seemed  to  think  thai,  we  did  not 
want  it.  Did  you  not  think  so'.  Mr.  Morlev  ?  I  must  have 
von  to  speak  candidlv  on  the  question." 

"  I  realiy  did  think,  then,  mv  fair  eatechiser,"  said  Mor- 
kv,  ••  that  von  miirht  have  something  of  a  confidential  nature 
TO  discuss,  which  mv  presence  would  interrupt;  I  therefore 
expressed  the  idea,  so  that  if  it  happened  to  be  correct,  I 
mi'.: lit  at  once  re!ie\e  you  of  the  interruption;  for  1  assure 
von.  my  friends,  much  as  1  value  your  society,  I  do  not 
wish  to  e.njov  i!  at  the  expense  of  your  satisfaction." 

"  \Veil.  !>•'  us  drop  the  discussion."  said  the  lady;  "and 
sine-'  (';••  derly  has  no  obiection  io  vour  company, 

and  vou  seem  to  desire  hi-1.  I  have  no  ivntt  to  interfere  be 
tween  vent.  laps,  •_:(•::'!  'men,  you  \\onld  bo;h  feel 
more  comfortable  in  in\  ahs-1 

"Oil,  Miss  Walworlh '."  observed  Charles,  "how  can 
you  think  so  ?  Surely  vou  do  not  suppose  that  my  late 
residence  amon^  the  Indians  has  made  me  sn^'fi  a  savage  as 
that  ?" 

"  \o — far  be  it  from  me,"  she  replied,  "to  think  so. 
Hut  there  are  some  vomiijr  fellows  who,  I  believe,  have 
never  been  live  miles  out  of  the  bounds  of  JY'.m's  city, 
whose  manners  frequently  appear  as  if  they  had  been  alto 
gether  bred  ;;inon<l  savages." 

"Miss  \Yalworth,"  said  Morley,  who  felt  this  remark  to 
be  levelled  at  himself,  "  if  my  inconsiderate  expression  has 
otlV-nded  vou.  I  recant  it.  Hut  no — it  was  truth — T  reallv 


102  THE     WIUJKKNESS. 

perceive  that  my  presence  has  disagreeably  interrupted  the 
enjoyment  of  more  pleasing  company." 

"  Whether  I  prel'cr  the  company  of  others  to  yours,  or 
not,"  she  replied,  "lias  .sun1!;,,  Mr.  Morley,  nothing  to  do 
with  my  assertion  as  to  the  savages  I  have  seen  bred  in 
Philadelphia;  for,  I  assure  you,  J  have  seen  some  in  this 
city  so  rude,  that,  although  their  friends  and  their  fortunes 
may  sometimes  gain  them  admission  into  good  company.  I 
would,  for  mv  part,  rather  sec  one  of  the  wild  Chippeways 
stalking  into  my  presence." 

"  "i  on  are  too  severe  upon  the  youth  of  your  native  city," 
observed  Charles,  who  felt  for  Morley,  as  lie  perceived  him 
much  mortified;  ''surely,  Miss  \\alworth,  you  do  not  in 
clude  us  all  in  your  remarks  .'" 

"  God  forbid,"  she  exclaimed ;  "the  same  Paradise  thai 
contained  an  an<iel.  we  aro  told  contained  also  a  serpent." 
"  But  what  say  you,  Mr.  Morley,"  she  continued,  smiling 
in  that  gentleman's  face,  in  order  to  relieve;  his  chagrin, 
which  she  saw  had  been  as  highly  excited  as  she  wished  : 
"  what  say  you,  my  friend,  would  it  not  be  for  the  advan 
tage  of  some  of  our  young  people,  ladies.  1  believe,  as  well 
as  gentlemen,  to  visit  the.  savages  to  get  their  city  rust  rub 
bed  oil'.'  Pray.  Captain  Adderly,  what  kind  of  women  are 
those  squaws  .'  Have  you  ever  seen  any  of  them  you 
thought  handsome  ?  But,  Mr.  Morley,  please  to  be  seated, 
and  then  Captain  Adderly  will  let  us  hear  of  those  Indian 
women." 

"  Miss  AValworth,  I  am  all  complaisance  to  the  commands 
of  the  fair,"  replied  Morley,  seating  himself  beside  Charles. 
"  One  smile  from  beautiful  lips  will  always  remove  from  my 
mind  the  impression  of  a  thousand  frowns." 

"All  !  you  are  very  good-natured,  I  know,"  she  returned; 
"  but,  my  dear  sir,  you  look  so  well  in  the  pet,  that  it  would 
be  a  pity  you  should  not  sometimes  fall  into  it  ;  and  then 
again  you  are  so  much  improved  on  your  recovery,  really  it 
is  delightful  to  see  you  go  through  the  process  of  a  little 
ill-humor.  But  let  us  hear  of  the  sqaws  ?  Do  they  ever 
get  angry,  Captain  ?" 

"Angry  !"  observed  Charles,  "  no.  no.  Miss  Wai  worth, 
they  leave  that,  for  their  husbands." 


THE     \VII,DKK\E33.  108 

"  That's  right,"  said  Morley,  "  I  wi?h  our  pretty  while  la 
dies  would  also  do  the  same.  How  charming  they  would 
be  !" 

"It  would  he  very  unfortunate,  sir,"  returned  the  lady; 
"  '-pccially  if  all  our  whit"  nen  acre  so  difficult  to  keep  in 
order  as  yon.  Captain  Adderly,  do  the  savage  men  ever  g>,-t 
angry  I"' 

••  Very  frequently  with  each  other/'  replied  Charles  ;  "hut 
seldom  or  never,  I  believe,  with  their  women. " 

•'  i  h-'uk  you,  sir,"  she  observed  ;  "  hence  at  once  is  seen 
th'1  reason  why  the  squaws  are  so  good-natured.  I'll  warrant 
V''U,  if  they  had  some  of  our  Philadelphia  bucks  among  them 
tl.  -y  would  soon  change  their  tempers.  But  you  didn't  tell 
mo  if  they  arc  handsome?" 

"Ah!  Miss  Wahvorth,"  replied  Charles,  "  you  must  ex 
cuse  me  there.  'My  eyes,  I  believe,  have  too  much  Christian 
p  rtiality  in  their  vision,  to  be  a  proper  judge  in  this  matter: 
ai'd  present  beauty  I  have  ever  felt  blind-folding  in  its  qualities/' 

"  1  understand  you,  sir,"  she  returned  smartly  ;  "  although  it 
i;-  odd.  too,  that  beauty  should  have  upon  you  an  ("fleet  so  dif- 
i  rent  from  what  it  has  on  other  people,  who  generally  accuse 
ii  of  two  much  brightness.  Yonder  arc  some  ladies  opposite 
t  us,  from  whose  countenancss  I  will  undertake  to  say,  that 
?-;r.  Morlcy  will  acknowledge  he  sees  li-j-ht  issuin;:;  and 
h  \.  him  converse  !>ut  five  minutes  with  any  one  of  them,  he 
will  protest  that  h'T  eyes  dart  flames.  How  then,  sir,  could 
they  blind-fold  you?"" 

"  perhaps  by  excels  of  light,"  returned  Charles.  "  Men, 
yon  know,  have  been  struck  blind  by  li'jditninir.  But  yon- 
('  :r  is  the  signal  for  another  set.  Miss  Wai  worth,  have  the 
r  todness  to  honor  me '' 

Si)  ^avinir,  he  arose,  bowed  to  the  lady,  who  gave  him  her 
l-'ind,  and  whispering  to  Morley  to  follow  with  a  partner,  he 
I  d  his  fair  companion  ':mi!in:[  towards  the  dancing  part  of 
t'ie  company. 

i)ii!  j'.y  on  earth  is  nevr  lasting.  A  few  hours  rolled 
r  tund  and  llie  i^errv  revellers  of  this  uray  party  >verr  obliged 
to'separate.  Tiiev  accordingly  hastened  to  their  respecuvi! 
]  omes,  where  on  '.heir  dull  couches,  ''such  are  the  contrasts 
<  f  human  life)  they  sought  repose  from  the  f,iti»ue  of  joy, 
!id  concealment  fmm  'hn  rdmirin^  0-170  of  (lie  world. 


1  III!     Wir.DKRNR.3S. 

A  close  intiiincy  was,  now  cultivated  between  the  lamdie- 
of  Adderlv  and  \Yalworih  :  the  heads  of  which,  with  great. 
satisfaction,  conceived  that  their  plans  for  a  still  closer  con- 
si:  MOM,  were  on  the  fair  way  of  being  soon  accomplished. 
;\ot  a  week  passed  but  reciprocal  parties  were  several  tunes 
given  ;il  both  houses.  Mrs.  Adderiy  never  seemed  so 
happy  ".S  when  she  bad  her  t;on  to  accompany  her  on  visits 
to  Arabella  :  and  Arabella  never  permitted  any  other  engage 
men.iS  to  mterfeie  with  her  returning  these  visits.  Charles. 
on  such  occasions,  frequently  found  his  presence  exp<  cted 
fo  accompany  her  both  in  coming  and  going;  and  very  often, 
'=o  familiar  did  their  intimacv  during  the  autumn  become,  in 
was  put  i't  reuuisi;io!,  10  attend  I  KM-,  in  her  carriage  to  shori 
excursions  in  the  country.  There  they  often  recruited  them 
amidst  graves,  and  shadv  bowers,  and  i>\  ihe  banks  ot 
piiriiiiL1'  broni<s,  and  all  the  tempting  situations  lor  love  ;  and 
Charles,  it  must  not  be  denied,  frequently  found  his  nal.ur.il 
fondness  for  the  sex  in  such  sini.Uions  excited  to  a  pass"i<: 
feeling  of  something  like  tenderness  for  the  fair  companion 
of  his  dangerous  rambles.  Hut  he  meritoriously  held  last  to 
ins  he:irt'<  inte'jrity.  Merctoriously  did  1  say!  Alas'.!." 
had  no  merit,  in  the  a  Hair.  It  was  his  feelings,  feelings  of  a!- 
:'eciion  and  passion  interwoven  with  his  very  existence,  tha: 
im  constan*  to  his  iirsf  ;md  f>nlv  love.  V\'hat.  if  h(i-  felt 
•a.rt  warm  at  the  soft  seducing  glance.-,  and  love-speaking 
blushes  of  the  universally  admired  beauty  of  the  gay  world, 
who  indulged  him  with  so  much  of  her  society!  \\hat 
if  lie  felt  a  keener  throb  than  usual  beating  at  his  heart,  as 
leaning  on  his  arm  she  would,  perhaps  involuntarily  press  v 
to  her  bosom  !  There  surely  was  nothing  of  infidelity  in  it 
There  might  he  weakness  in  it,  but  it  was  the  weakness  o! 
human  nature,  and  but  momentary.  One  singlo  reflection 
upon  the  charms  of  his  distant  Mf.ria  would  calm  the  storm, 
restore  him  to  strength,  and  to  these  feelings  of  true  love  thai 
he  delighted  to  cherish. 

Il  inns';  not,  however,  he  concealed,  that  in  some  of  those 
underguarded  moments,  his  natural  politeness  was  perhaps 
exceeded  in  the  warmth  of  expression  with  which  he  com 
plimented  his  fair  and  tempting  companion.  But  these  com 
pliments,  although  often  taken  for  more  than  they  really  ex 


1'HF:     WII.DIIRNKSS.  10.") 

pre--ed  by  the  young  lady  who  wished  them  to  express  more, 
were  never  intended  by  Charles  to  express  even  half  their 
liter  i  meaninir :  and  were  sometimes  more  than  half  repented 
of  <  re  they  were  i'ullv  uttered.  ]t  must  also  be  said  in  ios 
justification,  that  had  he  conceived  _\li-v-  Walworth  would 
hav  '  looked  upon  them  in  any  oilier  li<jdii  than  as  the  mere 
dictates  nf  that  common-place  gallantry  and  politeness,  due 
bv  il  men  to  a  fine  woman,  he  would  have  allowed  no  len.'p- 
tutii.ii  to  induce  him  to  utter  them. 

-•  all  this  time  not  aware   that  hi.1  was  looked  upon 
le  whole  citv  as  the  favored  and   fortunate  candidate  lor 
Mi--;  V -"a! worth's  hand.      Mis  pointed  attentions  to   her,  and 
the    x   lusive  preference  she  so  publicly  pave  him  over  all  her 
admirers,  were  of  themsehes   MI  i'i"icntly  to  jrive  rise 
to  this  opinion,  which  was   now   become  the   current  report 
:mti  firm  belief  of  all  the  imssips  of  tin*  day:  but  it  was  also 
sn   •  irony.'}"  corroborated    and  almost    confirmed  by  tlic   fact 
:>mn<r,  whether  by  accident  of  design  is  not  material,  ot 
•idv's  guardian  ami  tin;  gentleman's  father,  having  :uMu- 
.!  upon   the  conditions  of  the  match,  that  the   most 
tical  on  the   subject,  could  not  at.  last,  withhold   their  as- 
sci     to  the  truth  of  the   report. 

'••la'ler.-  were  thus  circumstanced,  when  one  day  Charles 
wi  it  to  p-iy  his  usual  visit  to  Mr.  Walworth'.s.  The  servant 
inl "fined  him.  that  Miss  Walworth  was  in  the  drawing-room, 
Hi  •-  ccnded  the  stairs  without  ceremony,  and,  the  door  of 
thi  di  lom  being  a  little;  open,  he  had  scarcely  reached 

tii'    landing-place,  when  he  heard  the  young  lady  saying  in  a 
v<V>  'f.  rather  above  her  usual  tone  to  some  person  in  the  room — 
•It  is   a  mailer,  sir,  that    cannot   concern    yon.      1  have   a 
o  bestow   my  alfections,  yes,  and   my  hand   too,  upon 
person  f  choose — and  if  I  have  preferred  Captain  Adderiv. 
.  been  my  own  pleasure  to  do  so.  and  I    hope,  sir,  ]   am 
ne    aco:intabln  to  you  for  my  preference--  or  my  conduct." 

•  ''lar'es  j/anscul  lor  a  moment,  uncertain  whether  to  ad- 
vimce  or  re'irc1;  he  would  have  done  th.e  latter,  but  he  had 
already  advanced  too  far,  for  the  ladv,  who  was  walking 
al  !iii  the  room,  happened  that  instant,  to  see  him,  and  ex- 
el  imcd — 

-•  Mi.  here  is  ( 'harles  himself 


106  THE    WILDERNESS. 

He  hastened  forward,  while  she  held  out  her  hand,  whi'-h 
he  graceful! v  painted,  and- turning  round,  made  a  bow  to  1  is 
frit-nd,  ?vlr.   Morley,   whi;:h   was  returned    with  a  dr 
rather  offensive  nod. 

'•Captain  Adder! v,"  Paid  the  lady,  assuming  an  air  if 
i_rn- •'  irritation  and  triumph,  " tliat  gentleman  has  j;i 
the  impertinence  to  quesiion  :-io  \<  -  to  tlie  di.spo.--al  of  my 
heart,  and  to  complain  of  the  preference  I  have  given  you, 
as  if  [  were  not  my  own  mistress,  -.,mi  could  not  besiovr  my 
affections  upon  whom  I  please.  He  has,  indeed,  te;./cd  me 
this  some  time  past,  with  his  ridiculous  addresses,  in  a  m-i  i- 
ner  that  I  am  determined  to  tolerate  no  lo; 

"I  hope  he  has  rot  insulted  yon  ?"  asked  Charles. 

"No.  he  lias  not.  exactly  insulted  me,"  she  replied;  "h  i 
language  is  of  too  whining  a  nature  f;T  thut.  But  I  wish  -o 
God  lie  would,  for  the  future,  r-iVain  iVui:a  annoy  in;;  r.  >'• 
with  his  importunities.  I  will  here  repeat  to  him,  thai  1 
shall  giv?  my  hand  to  whomsoever  I  choose — and  I  \vil 
that  his  presence  can  bo  at  present  dispensed  with." 

"I  shall  then,  proud  fair  one,  bid  y<  morning." 

said  Morlcy.  "Ihit  I  must  first,  state  to  Captain  Adders  . 
thai  I  have  no  quarrel  with  ;  and,  heaven  knows  !  it  : 

further  from  my  wishes  to  have  any  with  you.  My  oni  : 
fault  lias  been,  hi  spite  of  mys!.-'!',  loving  you  too  Eimren  !\  ; 
a  fault  which  I  shall,  if  possible,  endeavor  for  the  future  to 
correct.  But  if  I- should  not  be  able  to  do  so,  believe  me,  I 
shall  not,  at  any  rate,  disturb  your  peace  with  the  man  yon 
prefer.  " 

So  saying,  he  msde  each  of  them  a  polite  bcr.v  and  with 
drew. 

"Oh,  my  diaries!"  cried  Miss  "Walworth,  throwing  her 
self  upon  a  chair,  "von  know  not  although  I  ought  to  hav 
told  you,  how  niuch  I  have  been  lately  teazed  witi;  thai 
young  fellow. " 

Cliarles  scarcely  know  what  reply  to  make  to  such  an  ad 
dress.  It  unequivocally  insinuated  thai  she  regarded  hii;, 
as  her  favorite  lover,  an  idea  which  she  had  never  br-inn 
conveyed  in  such  express  terms.  Her  conduct,  had  indeed. 
often  manifested  that  she  entertained  such  an  idea.  13 1.1. 
lie-had  ventured  to  hope,  especially  as  he  was  conscious  o 


THE    WILDERNESS.  107 

iavin<r  never  made  any  direct  declaration  of  love  to  her, 
Iru  e  must  have  been  mistaken  in  his  construction  of  her 
loinl  .;'t.  Her  conduct  and  language  were  now,  however, 
Doth  oo  plain  for  mistake,  and  (113  felt  embarrassed,  not  know- 
ng  whether  ho  should  undeceive  her  at.  once  with  respect 
to  hi-  l(>elin<_rs,  or  let  her  discover  them  more  gradually  by 
lYture  deportment  towards  her.  Both  were  harsh,  and, 
after  ••\\<>  intimaev  he  had  so  imprudently  cultivated  with  her. 

vii  ps  uniTcneroua  measures,  and  grating  to  his  feelings — 
an!  the  last  was  certainly  the  least  so,  and  he  determined  to 
ado;  :'. 

••Miss  Wahvon-i,'"  said  he,  "what  the  nainre  of  your 
intercourse  with  Mr.  Morley  has  horn,  you  know  it  is  no 
mor  in-  ri  h  to  inquire  than  it  was  his  to  interrogate  YOU 
ahoi  •  \  our  intimac--  with  me.  I  would  be  equally  culpa 
ble  v.iiii  him  if  I  were  *<»  do  so;  ;md  you  would  be  equally 
enii'.ed  to  reset;  i  ,'uct. " 

"How,   Charles!"  t.  "          !  understand   you.' 

])i>  •  "on  i!ol  speak  mysteriously  .'  Is  it  not  in  my  power  to 
prei  T  von  to  him,  and  have  I  not  done  so?  Has  my  con- 
duc'  not  all  along  shown  it.'  Have  you  not.  therefore,  privi- 

'<  ;  en  which  he  had  no  right  to  presume  ?" 

••  !'  acknowledge,"  said  Charles,  "that  you  have  a  right 
to  r  LTul'le,  according  to  your  own  pleasure,  the  privileges 
you  allow  your  friends,  and  i  cannot  hut  feel  grateful  at  the 
suj  i-rior  coniidence  \'ou  seem  willing  to  repose  in  me,  and 
I  c;  i  at  least  make  this  return  for  it,  that!  will  not  betray  it." 

'•  What  means  this  '."*  she  muttered  with  a  tone  of  sur- 
pri-  •  and  some  irritation,  "this  cold  chilling  return!  the 
pri1  iU-fj''1  I  allow  my  friends!  Is  it  Captain  Adderly  that. 
spr  ;ks  so  !  " 

ilere  she  became  much  agitated,  and  for  a  few  moments 
continued  silent.  At  length  relapsing  into  tenderness,  and 
bu.^tinir  into  tears,  she  cried,  "Oh,  Charles!  surely  I  have 
no1  deserved  this  from  you.  You.  from  whose  attentions  I 
ha1  e  derived  so  much  pleasure — you,  to  whom  T  have  jjiven 
up  my  heart — to  whom  I  have  now  exposed  all  my  weak- 
ne  s.  Alas!  have  I  been  deceived  by  your  professions!  If 
so.  I  am  indeed  miserable!" 

••  Be  calm,  Miss   AValworth,"    returned    Charles,   greatly 


108  THE     WILDERNESS. 

moved,  and  willing  to  soothe  her — for  at  lliat,  moment  h 
had  not  the  heart  to  increase  the  pan^s  he  had  already  ii: 
flieied — "Alas!  he  composed,  my  dear  madam;  whatever 
professions  I  have  made,  they  may  have  been  mistaken,  bi;; 
I  assure  you  that  they  never  were  intended  to  he  so." 
I  Fere  the  propriety  of  resolving  not  to  encourage  her  delu 
sion  recurred  to  him,  and  he  added,  "For  the  future  im 
conduct  shall  lead  to  no  mistake.  Miss  "Walwortli,  L  shall 
leave  you  now  to  become  tranquillized,  and  believe  me,  i' 
shall  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  that  YOU  have  sue- 
ceeded." 

So  saying,  he  bade  her  good  morning",  and  retiring,  wliei: 
she  caught  him  by  the  arm,  and  exclaimed — 

"Oh,  Charles!   Charles!   do   not  leave   me   thus,   witlion 
some  asurance  that  you  love  me;  for,  alas!  you  have  raided 
adouht.  " 

"How  different  is  this  woman  from  the  mild,  the  u.odest, 
the  retiring  Maria!"  thought  he,  and  lie  was  at  once  deter 
mined  how  to  act. 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  AValworth,  "  he  replied  ;  "from  m\ 
soul  I  pity  you,  but  I  can  assure  you  of  nothing  more  ai 
present.  " 

"Then — then — "  she  cried,  "  what  means  that  covenant 
concerning  us,  into  which  your  lather  and  my  uncle  have 
entered  V 

"What,  covenant.'"  asked  Charles,  with  surprise. 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  know  not  of  it.'"  -said  she, 

••I  assure  you,  upon  my  honor,  I  know  nothing  of  it,"  h< 
replied. 

"Ah  !  then,  1  am  doubly  deceived,"  said  she.  "My  uncle 
spoke  of  it  a,s  a  marriage  treaty,  and  !  presumed — alas  !  whui 
errors  have  I  not  presumed — that  it  was  \  our  doing." 

"Miss  AValworth,  by  heavens!  I  believe  you  have  in 
deed  been  deceived!"  he  cried,  with  considerable  fervor. 
"The  innocent,  the  unmeaning  pleasure  I  took  in  your  com 
pany  may  have  led  to  all  these  mistakes  ;  but  I  shall  now 
endeavor  to  correct  '.hem.  May  heaven  forgive  me,  I  really 
believe  I  have  sinned  against  you.  But  I  will  stay  no  loii- 
ger,  lest  t  repeal  my  fault."  So  saying,  he  hurried  from 
her  presence. 


THF.       W1LPF.UNF.SS.  Hi!) 

The  next  morning,  Charles,  availing  himself  ot  a  pressing 
atio:i  he  ]iad  received  from  a  friend  who  lived  near  1'ris- 
il  twenlv  miles  Tip  ihe  Delaware,  set  out  on  horse- 
b:n  .  fo!1  that  place.  There  he  remained  for  about  a  week, 
and  had  time  leisurely  to  v,  <  ;<:h  his  past  conduct.  Ife 
col  d  not  recollect  anything  for  which  he  could  seriously 
coi  demn  himself.  He  had,  indeed,  frequently  compliment 
ed  Miss  "\Val\vorth  in  terms  of  high  eulogy  on  both  her 
p  -op.al  charms  and  elegant  manners  ;  but  then  she  really 
•rod  his  encomiums,  and  he  had  no  conception  that  she 
v,  r-dd  place  anv  more  value  upon  them  than  what  they 
\\  i  -  mereiv  worth,  namely,  the  light,  airv,  ami  often  un 
meaning  and  unreflecting  expressions  of  a  <r.iy  and  thought 
Irs-  mind  idling  a  beauiful  young  woman  how  pleased  he 
w;  with  her  society,  but  neither  telling,  nor  intending  to 
te['  more. 

This  was  the  sum  of  his  offending ;  and  if  it  was  venial 
in  itself,  surely  lie  was  not  answerable-  for  any  misronstrue- 
(i<  dnt  either  she  or  ihe  world  might  put  upon  it.  Me 
w;  >  sorry,  indeed,  on  her  account,  that  such  a  misconstruc- 
i'n  n  had  taken  place,  but  the  only  thiii^  he  could  now  do  to 
re  air  the  unintentional  injury  he  had  elone  her.  was  by 
a\  id  ing  her  society,  to  undeceive  all  parties,  as  to  his 
\i  \\ .--  in  ha\ing  courted  it.  AVi'li  respect  to  his  fidelity  to 
Y;  . ri  .  In.1  had  noihi;i'i'  for  winch  either  to  ae-cuse  or  ap- 
pl  ud  :  -iiir-df.  He  i'di  the  coiisiaiicv  of  his  unspeakable 
'[•'  for  hi!1  unshaken;  but  for  this  IK-  riamu-d  no  praise, 
a.-  -  knew  tha;  ii  was  a  constanc)  \viiidi  could  only  fail 
I  o  o  d  c :  - :  s  e  d  to  animate  his  [  i  e  a  r  i . 

i'e   returned   to  the  ci'.v  mi  the  -  ;iy  afier   leaving 

n.  in  obedience  to  a  summon?-  from  ;  lather.  \  few  hoiir.- 
<ii  :c  arriving  in  te>wn,  feeling  a  disposition  fur  meditation  and 
>:  d-,  he  rcMred  to  his  apurliiH-nt  without  having  seen  hi.- 
la  her,  wiiom  necessary  business  haul  kept  out  during'  tie 
u  i.  a-;  evening.  Before  he  was  long  there,  however,  his: 
f  iu-r  entered,  with  a  countenance  more  solemn  anel  stern 
th  m  !u:  iia.d  ever  recollected  to  see  him  assume.  lie  placed 
;l  he  had  brought  in  his  hand,  deliberately  and  sileudy 
table,  and  sf.atmg  himself  upon  a  chair,  drew  oui 
•t-lmok.  lV'',ii  wiiidi  he  (i»>k  a  paper,  and  also  laid  <,'•• 


110  THE    WILDERNESS. 

on  the  table.  After  returning  the  pocket-book  to  its  place, 
and  adjusting  himself  a  little  more  commodiously  on  the 
chair,  he  at  length  spoke,  but  it  was  not  to  give  his  son  a 
kindly  welcome  from  the  country — it  was  to  reprimand  him 
for  going  there. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  it  '  appears  that  you  took  your  flight  at  the 
very  time  you  should  have  attended  to  make  your  explana 
tions  to  a  beautiful  young  lady,  whom,  by  your  pretensions 
sions  and  professions  you  have  betrayed  into  the  belief 
that  you  loved  her,  and  thereby  succeeded  in  making  an  im 
pression  on  her  heart.  Your  departure  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  is  looked  upon,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say,  with 
an  air  of  great  probability,  as  an  intended  desertion  of  this 
young  woman  :  and  the  whole  city  is  now  crying  out  srnme 
against  you  for  such  perfidious  conduct.  Have  you  ought, 
sir,  to  say  in  exte-uiatbii  c,f  year  !a;::l  ?" 

"  My  "father,"  replied  Charles  ;  "  it  grieves  me  to  hear  you 
address  me  in  such  language,  and  it  grieves  me  still  more  to 
think  that  3-011  have  been  capable  of  suspecting,  nay,  of  ac 
cusing  me  of  perfidy  to  any  person.  But  1  have  this  conso 
lation,  amidst  the  misfortune  of  vour  displeasure,  to  he  con 
scious  that  the  charge  on  which  it  is  founded,  is  unjust;  and 
the  only  thing  I  can  say  in  extenuation  of  the;  fuuit  you  men 
tion,  is,  that  it  never  was  int*-i:ti,)!i;.liy  or  knowingly  com 
mitted." 

"  What  say  you?"  asked  his  father  with  surprise  ;  "Did 
you  never  make  love  to  Miss  Wahvorth  ?"  answer  me,  hon 
estly,  as  you  value  my  favor  or  my  displeasure." 

'•  I  will  answer  you  honestly  then,  my  father,"  said  Charles, 
"  1  never  did." 

"You  never  did  !  What  then  meant  all  your  attentions 
to  her,  your  perpetual  running  after  her  company,  gallanting 
with  her,  flattering  her,  and  complimenting  her  beauty  and 
numerous  excellent  qualities,  of  which  it  is  well  ascertained, 
that  you  wore  not  sparing?" 

'•Father,"  replied  Charles,  "pardon  me  if  1  say  that  you 
are  too  well  acquainted  with  the  manners  of  the  world,  not 
to  know  the  true  value  and  import  of  such  compliments,  as 
in  the  thoughtless  hours  of  amusement  and  gaiety,  our  sex 
ha?  been  long  in  the  habit  of  receiving  as  unmeaningly  a. 


THE     WILDERNESS.  1  1  1 

rti>  y  ,ue  given.  Boyond  such  common-place  compliments, 
I  assure  you  I  have  never  gone  in  my  intercourse  with  Miss 
VI  alworth;  and  allow  me  to  justify  myself  by  saying,  that  in 
p'.ymir  her  these  compliments,  I  conceived  that  I  had  nothing 
biiL  what,  from  the  customs  of  society,  her  youth  and  ac 
complishments  entitled  her  to  expect  from  any  man  who  had 
any  pretensions  to  good-breeding." 

"So,  after  all  it  appears,"  returned  his  father,  "  that  the 
amount  of  your  attentions  towards  her,  was  mere  good- 
breeding." 

••  So  I  considor  it,"  replied   Charles. 

"  But  it  seems  that  both  the  young  lady,  and  the  whole 
ci'.y,  consider  it  otherwise,"  said  his  father. 

'•  U')tli  the  lady  and  the  city  must  he  mistaken,  then,"  ob- 
3:  rved  Charles,  '•  although  in  consideration  of  tho  lady's  feel 
ings,  [  will  say  so  to  none  but  you,  to  whom,  alone,  I  am 
anxious  to  justify  myself." 

"  Certainly  you  know  the  meaning  of  your  own  conduct 
b  'St."  observed  tiie  father.  "Hut,  pray,  how  did  ii  happen 
tiat  you  paid  such  unusual  attention  to  one  to  whom  you 
n  >\v  profess  your  heart  to  have  been  indifferent?" 

••  All,  sir,"  said  Charles,  "  May  I  remind  you,  that  the  in 
tercourse  which  called  for  these  attentions,  was  not,  at  first, 
o,'  my  seeking;  and  through  its  whole  continuance,  it  is 
v.  ith  extreme  reluctance,  I  say,  though  it  be  only  to  the  ear 
of  a  lather  from  whom  I  wish  to  conceal  nothing,  that  I  was 
More  sought  alter,  or  rise  fortuitously  thrown  into  her  com 
pany,  than  would  in, my  a  time  have  been  my  choice." 

This  statement   may  be  correct,"  observed  his  father  in  a 

s  unewhat  more  kindly  tone,  "and  1  am  sorry  lor  it,  although 

I'  pleases  me  to  find  that  you  have  yet  done  nothing  to  de- 

s  'rve  the  censure  which  has  gone  abroad  against  yon.      But, 

Charles,  I  had  set  my  heart  upon  your  marrying  this  young 

•\  oman.      I   wish   anxiou-ly  to  see  you   established  in   life  ; 

;i'id  in  the  whole  city,  t  do  not  know  a  match  that  would  be 

;nore  advantageous  to  you,  nor  could  I  imagine  that  any  could 

i-e  found  more  attractive.      Her  uncle  is  also  desirous  to  form 

the  connexion,  and  we  had  gone  so  far,  on  the   presumption 

iiat,  no  objection  could  arise  on  your  part,  as  to  arrange  the 

onditions  of  the  marriage  articles.     The  reason  of  my  not 

21 


112  THK     WILDERNESS. 

communicating  this  to  yon,  was,  that  I  expected  every  day 
to  receive  an  application  from  you  on  the  subject,  .vhieh 
would  have  been  the  most  natural  course  of  proceeding-,  and 
by  far  the  most  agreeable  to  all  parties.  I  am  sorry  that  the 
proposal  must  originate,  at  last,  with  me  ;  for  as  matters  exist 
now,  I  perceive  that  their  is  no  other  expedient  left.  Your 
consent  is  alone  wanted,  to  effect  a  union  which  must  give 
great  and  permanent  satisfaction  to  all  concerned,  and  to 
which  the  whole  community  had  lately  set  their  eyes  and 
expectations.  What  say  you,  my  son,  will  you  consent  to 
marry  the  richest  and  most  beautiful  young  lady  in  the  city, 
whose  love  for  you  is  now  so  unequivocally  declared,  that 
ever  since  the  day  of  your  supposed  desertion,  she  has  not 
appeared  in  company,  nor,  as  that  letter  on  the  table  states, 
left  her  bedchamber.  But  you  may  peruse  it,  sir,  it  is  from 
her  uncle,  and  I  hope  it  will  make  some  impression  upon 
your  mind." 

"  THOMAS  ADPERLY,  ESQ. 

"Dear  Sir — The  progress  we  have  made  in  the  trans 
action,  in  which  your  son  and  my  niece  were  to  be  the  par 
ties  disposed  of,  had  induced  me  to  hope  for  a  speedy  and 
final  settlement  of  the  affair;  but  I  am  sorry  to  say.  that 
owing  to  some  misadventure  on  the  part  of  your  son,  the 
bargain  is  likely  to  fail  on  your  side.  My  niece,  which 
was  the  part  of  the  concern  for  which  I  stood  engaged,  is 
still  substantial  and  ready  for  delivery,  when  the  equivalent 
shall  be  forthcoming,  and  the  demand  made. 

Your  son,  it  appears,  after  having,  by  much  management, 
embezzled  the  esteem,  or  love,  or  heart,  or  whatever  you 
women's-men  choose  to  call  it,  of  my  niece,  has  become  a 
defaulter  and  decamped  from  the  premises,  leaving  her  in  a 
very  destitute  and  forlorn  state.  She  will  not  leave  her 
own  chamber;  and  as  she  scarcely  makes  use  of  an  infant's 
allowance  of  nourishment,  I  fear  that  her  health  will  give 
way,  if  it  has  not  already  done  so,  under  the  pressure  of  this 
unexpected  shock. 

As  the  head  and  principal  manager  of  the  firm  from  whose 
deficiency  in  the  stock  of  proper  conduct  our  present  em 
barrassments  have  arisen,  I  call  upon  you,  as  you  value  the 


THE     WILDERNESS.  113 

honor  and   standing  of  your   establishment,  as  well  as  the 

cr  dii  and  prosperity  of  ours,  to  make  all  exertions  to  pro 
cure  the  needful,  and  by  promptly  acquitting  yourselves  of 
vo.ir  obligations,  relieve  us  out  of  our  present  distresses. 

Your  due  attention  to  these  matters,  is  earnestly  requested 
at  as  early  a  day  as  you  can  command. 

•  am,  with  proper  consideration,  your  most  obedient  ser- 
v:  ;it,  .Hour.  \V  AI.WOUTJI." 

••  I  am  indeed  sorry  that  Miss  Walworth  has  taken  this 
mailer  so  much  to  heart,"  said  Charles,  replacing  the,  very 
classical  epistle-  he  had  been  reading,upon  the  table.  "But 
1  cannot  see  \vhy  so  much  blame  should  be  attached  to  ei- 
th,  r  you  or  me.  in  the  affair.  For  my  part,  I  stand  pledged 
to  her  for  the  performance  of  no  engagement  whatever; 
and,  mv  dear  lather,  pardon  me,  when  I  make  use  of  an  ex 
pression,  which  1  apply  solely  to  this  banker's  interference, 
1  have  no  notion  whatever  of  being1  in  this  manner  bullied 
imp  a  marriage." 

••Charles,"  observed  his  father,  more  mildly  than  he  ex- 
pi  ;ted,  ••  tiiis  letter  is  addressed  to  me.  Its  stvle  may  not 
h(  exactly  what  a  pupil  of  Trinity  College  would  consider 
su  ted  to  the  subject,  but  it  conveys  explicitly  enough  the 
meaning  of  the  honest  man  who  wrote-  it,  and  is  designed 
oidy  to  call  upon  me,  who  have  pledged  myself  to  forward 
tin-  intended  connexion  with  all  my  influence,  to  exert  that, 
in.iuence  in  procuring  your  consent  to  it.  Now,  Charles, 
what  I  have  to  say  on  the  subject  is  this;  1  know  that  love 
can  never  be  produced  by  an  exertion  of  authority  or  by  the 
u>!-.  of  threats,  and  since  yon  have  satisfied  me  that  you 
ha\e  not,  as  is  reported,  acted  meanly  towards  Miss  Wal 
worth,  1  am  not  now  disposed  to  use  either.  But  1  would 
re-commend  you  to  think  seriously,  and  as  a  man  of  feeling, 
U|  on  the  situation  of  the  lady  who  has  evidently  become 
at;  iclird  to  you;  and  1  know  so  much  of  the  tender  pas 
sions,  that  I  have  more  reliance  upon  your  becoming  im 
pressed  favorably  towards  her  on  account  of  what  sin-  feels 
f o  •  }ou,  than  from  the  fear  of  any  threats  or  displeasure  1 
might  exercise.-  to  enforce  your  compliance.  I  wish  you, 
tl<  Telore,  my  son,  not  to  drop  ih<-  intercourse  you  have 


114  THE    WILDERNESS. 

lately  held  with  her.  Visit  her  as  before,  that  you  may 
put  a  stop  to  the  malicious  exultation  of  those  who  now  feel 
a  triumph  in  her  supposed  desertion,  and  if  possible,  incline 
your  feelings  to  think  tenderly  of  her." 

"1  shall  visit  her,  my  father,"  replied  Charles,  "in  obe 
dience  to  your  commands  ;  but  I  trust  that  your  <rood  sense 
will  not,  in  the  meantime,  require  any  further  promise  from 
me." 

Charles  accordingly  did  visit  her.  He  found  her  melan 
choly,  discontented,  and  irritable  ;  evidently  suii'erinu'  under 
the  tortures  of  wounded  pride,  as. well  as  of  disappointed 
love. 

"  Captain  Adderly,"  said  she,  "you  have  given  that,  cox 
comb  .Morley  a  triumph  over  me,  which  it  was  ungenerous 
in  you  to  allow.  But  that  is  of  no  consequence  ;  this  tri 
umph  I  cm  well  bear,  nav,  !  can  hear  without  much  ai>-tm\ 
the  scandal  of  tea-tables,  and  the  contempt  of  the  world,  thai 
you  have  procured  me,  but  1  cannot  bear  your  disdain  with 
out  sinkino-  under  it.  It  is  now  too  late  to  say  that  I  do  not 
love  you,  but,  I  will  entreat  nothing  from  you.  It  is  kind  in 
you  to  visit  me.  jt  may  rescue  me  from  the  contempt  o! 
my  enemies  :  and  on  your  part,  it  shows  compassion  :  but. 
alas!  what  is  compassion  from  you  without  love."' 

Charles  occasionally  visited  tiiis  young  lady  durinsr  the 
winter;  but  he  took  care  not  to  take  the  snme  liberties  with 
her  as  formerly.  She  for  a  time  continued  rather  to  declini 
in  health,  as  his  visits,  cold  and  formal  as  thev  were,  inspired 
her  with  just  sufficient  hopes  to  add  the  pang's  of  suspens< 
to  those  of  disappointment.  At  length  Charles  supposed 
that,  if  all  uncertainty  in  respect  to  him  were  removed  iron; 
her  mind,  her  reason  might  assist  her  pride  to  overcome  he; 
tenderness,  and  produce  her  recovery. 

tie  accordingly,  one  day  that  he  felt  very  much  affected 
with  her  condition,  addressed  her  in  a  more  confidents1 
tone  than  usual. 

"  Miss  Walworth,"  said  he,  "I  have  for  some  time  past 
been  impressed  with  the  idea  that  you  really  believe  I  lee 
some  aversion  towards  you.  But  I  assure  you,  1  have  n< 
such  feeling.  I  am  not  blind  to  your  various  excellences 


THE   WILDERNESS.  1J5 

I  see  them,  and  I  esteem  and  admire  them — nay,  there  is 
only  one  of  your  sex  in  ihe  world  who  possesses  more  of 
my  admiration.  Ah!  if  it  were  not  lor  her  dear  image  pre- 
o.'cupy  mir  all  my  heart,  it  miidit,  in  all  probability,  have 
no-  ;i.;o  yours,  for  next  to  her,  J  am  persuaded  you 
a  '  i:i"  only  \voman  whom  I  ever  saw,  that  1  miyht  have 
I  e:i  brought  to  love.  But  after  having  seen  her,  it  is  im- 
p  is.-ible  1  can  ever  love,  another.  Thus,  Miss  Walworth, 
you  see  the  f-stecm  1  have  i'or  you,  by  the  confidence  I  now 
ivpose  in  you  :  and  you  also  see  the  utter  impossibility  of 
inv  having  returned  you  that  tenderness  and  affection  with 
which  you  have  been  pleased  to  honor  me.  !5ut>  believe 
me,  I  never  for  a  moment,  felt  disposed  to  triumph  over  you 
(HI  account  of  your  showing  me  your  attachment.  Such 
f  eliiiirs  I  know  to  be  beyond  our  own  control;  and  because 
vm  must  be  convinced  that  they  are  so,  I  hope  you  will  be 
tic  more  ready  to  pardon  mv  seeming' indifference  for  those 
attractions  which  the  whole  world  acknowledges,  and  to 
v.  Inch  1  never  was  blind." 

"  1  feel,  alas!"  said  she,  ''that  these  feelings  are  indeed 
1  jyond  our  control.  I  thank,  sincerely  thank  you,  for  this 
C'Hitidencc.  1  set;  now  the  barrier  that  separated  us,  and 
•eive  that  it  can  never  be  overcome.  I  shall  try,  there 
fore,  to  stniuii'le  with  my  destiny:  and  1  trust  shall  yet  be 
;  ble  to  view  vou  in  a  li<_rht,  in  which,  1  believe,  you  will 
: .  iibnl  me  reciprocil  v,  that  of  a  true  and  faithful  friend." 

•'  Happy,  happy  shall  1  be  ever  to  consider  you  such," 
lie  replied  ;  "and  i  pray  heaven  soon  to  restore  you  to  that 
health  and  tranquillity  of  mind  which  will  promise  me  the 
ions:  enjoyment  of  such  a  blessing." 

Miss    Walworth   did  speedily  recover   after   this    period  ; 

•  rid   I  may  here    mention,  for   my  reader's  satisfaction,  that 
Me  constancy  of  the  enamored  Morley,  who.  instead  of  tri- 

•  mphinir.  as  she  supposed  lie  would,  at  her  disappointment, 
lad  really  sympathi/ed  in   her  allliction,  and  had  stood  her 
!(l\ocale   amidst   all   the  slander  that  was  heaped  upon   her, 
'Made  such  an   impression    on    her   mind,  that  she  rewarded 
him  with    her    hand  about  a  year  after    the    recoverv  of  her 
health  and  tranquillity.      I    may  also  add,  that  her  affliction 


116  THE      WILDERNESS. 

having"  had  the  salutary  effect  of  curing;  her  of  a  great  por 
tion  of  her  pride,  she  became  an  excellent  wife,  a  tender 
mother,  and  an  amiable  member  of  society. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Sooner  shall  the  eagle  of  heaven  be  torn  from  the  stream  of  his  roaring 
wind,  when  he  sees  the  dim  prey  before  him,  the  young  sons  of  the 
hounding  roe,  than  tliou,  0  Cathmor,  be  turned  from  the  strife  of  renown. 

OSSIAN. 

TIIF.  pleasing  sensations  experienced  during  the  spring 
months,  when  nature  resumes  all  the  fascinating-  softness 
and  beauty  of  her  original  youth,  it  has  been  long  and  often 
observed,  have  a  wonderful  effect  in  disposing  the  minds  of 
all,  especially  of  lovers,  to  unusual  tenderness  and  fervor. 
Affections  that  seemed  before  to  be  as  strong,  faithful,  fond, 
and  endearing,  as  the  human  heart  is  capable  of  feeling,  ap 
pear  now  to  become  at  least  more  restlessly  and  actively  so; 
and  separation  from  a  beloved  object,  which  the  force  of 
reason  might,  at  other  times,  have  enabled  us  to  endure,  in 
this  seductive  season  becomes  often  intolerable. 

It  was,  perhaps,  owing  to  this  mysterious  influence  of  the 
sweet  season,  that  Charles  Adderly,  although  it  certainly 
could  not  be  said  that  his  affection  tor  Maria  had  sustained, 
or  was  capable  of  sustaining  any  increase,  in  the  spring  of 
1755,  felt  unusual  anxiety  to  behold  her.  To  inform  his 
lather  of  his  wishes,  with  a  view  to  obtain  his  permission 
to  return  to  the  western  woods,  he  knew  would  be  fruitless, 
and  miirht  be  injudicious,  by  affording  a  motive,  in  case  of 
any  favorable  opportunity  offering  to  facilitate  his  return,  of 
forbidding  him  to  embrace  it. 


THE     \VILUEK\CS8.  117 

Charles  secretly  contemplated  the  occurrence  of  such  an 
opportunity,  in  the  march  of  a  British  army  to  act  against 
Fort  ])u  Quesne,  the  landing  of  which  on  the  shores  of 
America  was  every  day  expected.  Nor  was  it  long  until  he 
heard  the  joyful  intelligence  of  a  respectable  armament  of 
European  soldiers  under  General  Braddock  having  reached 
the  shores  of  Virginia,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  pro 
ceeding  against  the  French — lie  immediately  solicited,  and 
not,  it  is  true,  without  some  diiliculty,  obtained  his  father's 
consent  to  join  this  army  as  a  volunteer.  Elated  with  the 
prospect  of  soon  again  seeing  his  beloved,  and  assisting  to 
expel  the  enemy  from  her  neighborhood,  he  hastened  to 
Alexandria,  where  Braddock  had  agreed  to  meet  a  conven 
tion  of  the  different  governors  of  the  colonies,  in  order  to 
settle  the  plan  of  the  campaign. 

Ileie  Charles  met  with  his  former  commander,  Colonel 
Washington,  whom  Braddock,  anxious  to  employ  in  the  in 
tended  service,  had  appointed  one  of  his  aids-de-camp.  This 
gentleman's  friendship  and  influence  soon  procured  for  him 
the  appointment  of  captain  of  one  of  the  Virginia  ranging  com 
panies  that  were  to  be  attached  to  the  army,  and  Charles 
being  thus  fixed  to  his  satisfaction,  impatiently  awaited  the 
day  when  the  troops  should  be  ordered  to  inarch. 

After  various,  and  to  Charles,  extremely  vexatious  delays, 
occasioned  by  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  sufficient  supplies 
of  provisions,  waggons,  and  other  articles  necessary  for  the 
expedition,  the  army  at  length  was  put  in  motion,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  a  fort  at  Will's  Creek,  afterwards  called  Fort 
Cumberland,  which  was  the  most  western  post  then  held 
by  the  English  on  the  continent.  From  this  place  there 
v  as  no  road  on  which  the  waggons  could  pass,  and  it  began 
to  be  feared  that  the  delay  which  would  be  necessary  to  cut 
<ne  through  such  an  exceedingly  woody  and  rough  country, 
v  ould  allow  the  enemy  time  to  collect  such  a  force  as  might 
endanger  the  success  of  the  enterprise.  The  army,  how- 
(. ;ver  ronr.igeously  .struggled  with  all  obstacles,  until  it  had 
advanced  as  far  as  the  Great  Meadows,  where  the  difficulties 
of  the  way  were  found  to  increase  so  much,  that  General 
Braddock,  who  had  at  first  rejected  the  advice  of  Washing 
ton  to  carry  only  such  baggage  as  could  be  taken  forward  on 


118  THE    WILDERNESS, 

horses,  and  1o  leave  his  long  dilatory  train  of  wagons  be 
hind,  was  now  compelled  to  adopt  it  so  far  as  to  bring  on 
wards  only  the  light  waggons  and  tumbrels. 

Still  anxiously  aware  oi  the  necessity  of  expedition  to 
wards  securing  the  success  of  the  enterprise,  Washington 
also  advised  the  general  to  press  forward,  with  all  haste,  with 
a  chosen  body  ol  troops,  and  only  such  stores,  artillery,  and 
ammunition,  as  were  of  immediate  and  prime  necessity.  His 
reasons  for  this  advice  were,  that  the  French  were  now  weak 
on  the  Ohio,  but  were  in  momentary  expectation  of  re 
inforcements  ;  that  during  the  present  drought,  these  reinforce 
ments  could  not  pass  down  the  Alleghany  river,  but,  that  if 
the  march  were  protracted  by  waiting  to  bring  forward  the 
whole  army  and  baggage,  sufficient  rains  to  raisf  the  waters 
might  come  on,  by  which  means  the  gairison  at  Du  Quesne 
might  receive  their  expected  succours  before  it  should  be 
attacked,  and  might  in  consequence  be  able  to  sot  all  the 
force  of  the  expedition  at  defiance. 

These  considerations  agreed  well  with  the  liery  nature  of 
General  Braddock.  Twelve  hundred  of  his  best  troops  were 
accordingly  selected,  at  the  head  of  whom  he  proceeded  with 
what  baggage  and  military  stores  could  be  carried  on  horses 
and  in  a  few  light  vehicles,  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the 
place  of  destination.  With  the  residue  of  the  army,  Colonel 
Dunbar  was  left  at  the  Great  Meadows,  with  instructions  to 
follow  with  them  and  the  heavy  baggage  in  the  re;xr.  by  sluv. 
and  easy  marches, 

It  was  about  the  latter  part  of  June  when  this  select  eorpg. 
moved  from  the  Great  Meadows. — It  proceeded  on  with  as- 
much  celerity  as  the  numerous  impediments  of  the  country 
would  permit;  but,  although  divested  of  every  unnecessary 
incumbrance,  and  although  the  soldiers  were  encouraged  to 
high  alacrity  and  zeal  by  the  almost  certain  anticipation  of 
soon  lodging  themselves  in  Fort  Du  Quesne — for  neither 
General  Braddock  nor  his  regular  troops,  could  suppose 
that  there  was  any  enemy  then  in  the  country  able  to  resist 
them — yet  it  was  not  ui:til  the  eighth  of  July  that  they  came 
within  sight  of  the  ford  below  Turtle  Creek,  where  they 
M  ere  to  cross  the  Monongahela.  Herejthey  .stopped  a  few 
hours  to  refresh  themselves  before  they  should  attempt  thf 


THE     WILDERNESS. 


119 


i'< '••(!,  expecling  the  next  day  to  he  in  possession  of  Tort  I)u 

-!H'. 

ilow  (lid  Charles's  heart  heat,  when  casting  Ins  delighted 
v.;:w  over  the  expanse  of  tliis  nohle  river,  he  beheld  the 
s  loke  cv.rlino;  from  ihe  dwelling  of  his  Maria,  and  thought 
tiiat  in  a  i'e\v  hours  he  might  ibid  her  to  his  bosom.  There 
\ .  as  aiso  another  individual  in  the  army  oi'  still  higher  rank 
eminence  than  Charles,  whose  heart,  equally  throbbed 
v.  hen  he  beheld  the  spot  v.hieh  contained  this  sweet  ilower 
of  the  \\  iidemess  :  this  was  the  noble-souled  Washington, 
vho  loved  Maria  witii  a  passion  never  exceeded  in  i'aiih,  fer 
vor,  intensity,  and  disinterestedness,  by  any  that  ever  man 
i  it  for  woman.  lint  although  the  heart  of  this  truly  devo- 
l  i!  lover,  as  from  a  distance  lie  contemplated  the  abode  of 
\.::'c  wiio  reigned  within  it,  fell  a  throb  as  warm,  and  keen, 
;.:id  rapturous  as  any  that  could  be  felt  by  Charles,  yet  that 
throb,  iliou'rii  equally  rapturous,  was  not  equally  unmingled 
\\iiii  sorrow  ior  he-,  alas,  anticipated  no  affectionate  embrace, 
i.o  tender  glance,  indicative  of  mutual  love,  and  reciprocal 
i:  latitude  to  heaven  for  the  joyful  meeting.  The  delight  of 
Main  beholding  and  conversing  with  her,  and  perhaps  a 
hope  that  he  mi<_rht  not  converse  in  Vain,  (for  what  lover 
(••els  not  such  hope)  however,  actuated  and  inspired  his  mind, 
:  nd  he  also  trusted  that  now  was  come  the  time  when  she 
should  be  no  longer  endangered  by  the  vicinity  of  a  lawless 
and  sav:ii>e  hie. 

Hut  this  \()iin«'  hero  fell  a  sadness  intermix  itself  with 
these  feelings  of  delight,  which  sadness  arose;  not  altogether 
iroin  his  consciousness  oi  not  po.->sessiiii>  Maria's  love.  It 
was  "ready  occasioned  by  some  circumstances  attending  the 
march  of  the  army  that  was  to  expel  the  foe  from  her  vicin 
ity:  lor  he  knew  the  wily  nature  of  the  foe,  and  he  grieved 
.nuch  to  see  the  rashness  of  the  general  by  whom  that  gal- 
,11)1  army  was  led  on  to  the  encounter. 

When  at  Will's  Creek,  he  had  taken  tin;  liberty  to  caution 
;he  L'eneral  on  this  subject.  In  plnce  ol  marching  carelessly 
aloiii.'',  m  one  body,  through  a  thick  forest,  every  where 
ntersected  wilh  delis  ,\nd  dingles,  and  ravines,  affording 
:iirkinir  places  for  an  ambushed  enemy,  lie  earnestly  recom 
mended  that  scouts  and  rangers  should  be  sent  forward  on 


1*20  THE     WILDERNESS. 

the  course  of  their  march,  to  scour  the  country,  by  which 
means  any  ambuscade  that  niiuht  be  formed  for  them  would 
be  discovered,  ami  peihaps  rooted  out,  before  the  army  can,,1 
upon  it  unnwa, 

ikaddock  who,  alihov.o-h  a  brave  man,  soems  to  have  been 
very  deficient  is:  ih;  i  :::-ompt  sajjacitv  which  is  necessary  to 
form  ;>  a'ood  o-eneral.  despised  tliis  acl\iec;  nay,  it  is  said, 
tliat  he  had  the  liiticiu-ss  of  mind  to  reply  to  ii  in  terms  ol 
contempt  for  the  you;h  and  inexperience  of  him  who  iravr 
it. 

Vfashington,  whom  love,  patriotism,  humanity,  and  every 
•oiis  motive  that  can  actuate  the  mind  of  man,  render 
ed  zealous  for  the  sucsess  of  the  enterprise,  easily  fora'ave 
these  contemptuous  expressions;  but  when  he  reilect. 
the  d'.v:ulful  conseqiN  nee.-  uf  a  defei'i,  not  10  the  armv  alone 
luit  also  10  ;he  e  .id  to  her  whom  lie  loved  above  all 

i;!i:i_s.  ji:>    he.ir;  all    r.  ',  cour  .  and   fear- 

.  v.-ithin  him,  and  he-  could  not  help 

in;:  .1  presentiment  of  some  fatal  result,  against  which  their 
leader  seernecl  loo  c;ireless  or  too  hau<>;hfy  to  provide. 

"Alas!"  thought  he,  as  a  few  days  before  the  army  left 
the  Great  [Meadows,  fte  contemplated  the  ;\ppearancc  of  the 
<rallant  and  well-disciplined  soldiers  of  Uritain,  as  liiey  mo 
ved  before  Itiiu  throuirh  their  various  evolutions  on  parade; 
••into  what  destruction  mav  not  ili(>  im prudence  of  your  com- 
rnander  plunge  YOU!  Ah,  what  will  a\ ail  your  unrivalled 
discipline,  and  your  invincible  courage,  if  his  headstrong- 
rashness  acts  as  your  evil  genius,  and  drives  you  foolishly, 
barbarously,  and  uselessly  into  some  abyss  of  ruin,  where 
neither  courage  nor  discipline  can  serve  you!  And  you, 
my  country,  of  what  dreadful  consequence  would  such  an 
event  be  to  you!  Your  peaceful  citizens  would  then,  in 
deed,  feel  tenfold  the  horrors  that  they  have  ever  yet  felt, 
from  the  bloody  tomahawk  and  the  scalping-knife  of  the  ra 
pacious  and  savage  foe.  And  then,  O  thou  beloved  of  my 
heart!  thou  fairest,  -purest,  dearest  object  of  this  visible  cre 
ation!  ah,  it  mav  be  that  thou  wilt  be  the.  first  to  suffer!  alas. 
it  may  be  thai  thou  hasi  already  suffered  for  the  friendship 
of  thy  family  towards  me.  Or.  oh  God,  it  may  be  that,  some 
lawless,  licentious  Frenchman  mav  have  been  excited  to 


THE    WILDERNESS.  I'^l 

h'-.rriblc  lust  for  the  possession  of  thy  incomparable  charms 
;i:ul  may  have  made  thee  llic  helpless.  perhaps  the  mangled 
victim  of  some  diabolical  deed:  Oh  (Jod  !  Oh  (rod!  sup- 
p  >rl  me  under  the  agony  of  such  an  idea  !'' 

'The  blood  quickened  in  his  veins  at  the  horrid  thought : 
and  liie  force  of  these  disagreeable  contemplations,  taken  al 
together,  produced  upon  his  frame,  manly  and  vigorous  as 
ii  was.  such  an  effect  that  he  fell  into  a  raging  fever.  While 
I'.1  was  laboring  under  this  malady,  the  troops  marched,  and 
tiie  coinmander-in-chief,  who.  notwithstanding  he  contcmn- 
e;i  hi-  advice  as  to  the  management  of  the  expedition,  es- 
t  'cnu  .1  him  hi^'nlv,  let'i  strict  injunctions  upon  him  not.  on 
any  account  to  follow  them  until  he  should  be  recovered. 

The  second  day  after  their  departure,  however,  although 
1  is  fever  still  continued,  and  the  physician  declared  that  his 
;  dherinir  to  the  army  would  endanger  his  life,  his  anxiety 
of  mind  concerning  the  fate  of  the  expedition,  which  was 
now  hastening  towards  the  residence  of  his  beloved,  was 
>  >ich,  that  no  consideration  could  prevent  him  from  follow 
ing  it,  which  he  did  in  a  covered  wajro-on.  Both  duty  and 

>ve  impelled  him  to  this  step.  For  he  had  within  him  a 
!  'clino-  \vhicli  told  him  that  it  might  be  in  his  power,  if  not 

i  prevent  the  general  from  adopting  rash  measures,  at  least 

i  ii  ssen  their  disastrous  consequences.  This  violent  effort 
,  esiored  energy  to  his  mind,  and  he  overtook  the  army  the 
May  before  ii  readied  the  ford  at  Turtle  (/reek.  From  the 

outh  bank  of  the  Monongahela,  on  which  the  troops  had 
•descended  for  the  last  lour  or  live  days,  having  before  cross 
ed  the  river  above  the  'i  ouhiegany,  as  lie  beheld  the  undis- 
•urbed  appearance  of  Fra/ier's  dwelling,  his  hopes  whis 
pered  that  all  was  yet  safe  with  its  inmates,  and  he  became 
rreatly  tranquilized,  and  resumed  the  performance  of  his 
Inty  on  horseback. 

While  stationed  here,  and  until  die  van  had  about  half 
•  •rossed  the  ford,  not  an  individual  in  the  army  dreamed  of 
meeting  with  any  opposition  until  they  should  re.uch  Du 
Quesne;  for  as  to  Washington's  feelings  on  the  subject,  they 
arose  from  a  sajraciou*;  calculation  of  the  advantages  which 
the  imprudence  ol  Uraddock  would  allow  to  the  crafty  foes 
he  was  to  encounter,  if  tbev  should  lie  in  ambush  for  him. 


122  THE    WILDERNESS. 

rather  lhan  from  any  prophetic  certainty  that  there  would  ho 
an  ambush  laid.  Nay,  lie  at  this  moment,  began  to  entertain 
strong  hopes  that  the  eneinv  might,  on  this  occa.-ion,  contrary 
to  their  usual  practice,  neglect  to  proiit  by  the  advance 
which  was  thus  afforded  them. 

Tliese  hopes,  however,  were  but  short  lived.  His  anti 
cipations  of  the  worst  were  but  too  soon  fatally  realized,  and 
this  joyous  and  high-minded  army  experienced,  at  this  place, 
a  disaster  which  sent  half  their  number,  and  their  rash  jjcu- 
oral  along  with  them,  to  eternity  ;  and  from  which,  it  re 
quired  all  the  wisdom,  energy,  and  heroism  of  Washington, 
to  rescue  the  remainder. 

But  before  proceeding  to  detail  the  circumstances  of  the 
celebrated  and  calamitous  Battle  which  occasioned  this  disas 
ter,  I  beg  permission,  in  order  to  give  the  reader  a  clearer 
view  of  it,  to  describe  the  ground  on  which  it  was  fought. 

The  stream  of  the  Monongahela,  at  this  place,  runs  nearly 
from  east  to  west,  while  ihat  of  Turtle  (/reek,  issuing  out  of 
a  narrow  and  deep  glen,  enters  it  from  the  northward.  This 
glen  widens  in  its  approach  to  the  river,  in  consequence  of 
its  western  ridge  diverging  from  the  Cre«k.  and  gradually 
swelling  backwards  from  it,  from  a  quailei  to  half  a  mile. 
It  continues  this  hearing  of  its  sumnii:,  at  a  similar  distance 
from  the  Monongahela,  for  about  half  a  mile  down  it,  throw 
ing  off,  as  it.  descends  tow-mis  it,  three  or  four  well-marked, 
but  gently  declining  tables  of  fertile  land,  the  lowermost  of 
which  forms  a  level  bottom  of  considerable  breadth,  extend 
ing  alonjr  the  river  where  the  ford  is  situated.  About  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  below  Turtle  Creek  this  bottom  ends,  llie 
banks  were  becoming  high  and  precipitous,  which  is  their 
general  character  on  the  north  side,  and  for  a  considerable 
wav  also  on  the  south  until  they  reach  Pittsburgh,  where 
Fort  j)u  Quesne,  at  trie  lime  of  the  transactions  here  narra 
ted,  the  reader  need  scarcely  be  reminded,  was  situated. 

It  was  on  the  first  of  these  tables,  or  flats  of  land,  which 
ajises  from  that  adjoining  the  river,  that  the  principal  des 
truction  of  Braddock's  troops  took  place,  and  the  spot  is,  r.t 
least  half  a  mile  below  the  mouth  of  Turtle  Creek.  Its 
breast,  or  front  towards  the  river,  is  a  steep  acclivity,  elnvat'."! 


THK     WILDERNESS.  123 

i.'om  twenty  to  thirty  feet  above  the  adjacent  flat,  and  em- 
••M]  between  two  gullies  running  nearly  parallel   to  each 

•:lii  r,  about  three  hundred  yards  apart,  and  forming  a  square1 
portion  of  ground  of  eight  or  ten  acies,  gradually  ascending 
!>ackwards  for  eight  or  nine  hundred  yards,  to  where  another 
;:dile  elevates  its  front  above  the  battle-ground,  somewhat  be 
hind  which,  the  high  summit  of  the  sky-covered  ridge  over- 
;  >ps  all. 

It  was  in  these  gullies  ihat  the  Indians  laid  iheir  fa.tal  am 
bush,  amidst  trees,  long  grass,  thick  shrubs,  rind  various  other 
kinds  of  close,  concealing  undergrowth,  which  completely 
-creened  them  from  the  view  of  their  victims.  The  ground 
itself  was  covered  with  long  grass,  interspersed  with  many 
trees,  but  containing  very  little  underwood.  The  vegetation 
on  the  subjacent  bottom  was  much  of  the  same  description, 
beiiiir  perhaps  a  little  more  thick  set  with  brush  and  under- 
growth. 

Standing  at  the  present  d.iy  on  this  gr-.iund,  v.  h'n-h  is  now 

called  "  [iraddock's  Field,''    a  most,   pleasing   landscape,   not 

"•erv  extensive  it  i*   true,  bus  certainly  very  romantic,  varie- 

d,  :>.nd   comfortable  in  its   aspect,  strikes  the   view.      To 

he  north,  the  ridge  already  mentioned,  rises  above  you — to 
:he  west,  the  view  down  the  river  is  limited  by  the  hijrli 

>anks  a':-o  already  mentioned.  Directly  south,  the  broad 
expanse  of  the  Mononffaheln,  about  a  half  a  mile  over,  lies 
glittering  belore  you.  whili.1  from  its  fnstiier  bank,  the  bank 
on  which  liraddock's  army  halted  belbi-e  attempting  the  ford, 
the  land  rises  graduallv  and  iertildy,  without  leaving  an  ex 
tensive  margin,  as  it  dors  on  the  north  side. 

'I'o  the  eastward  the  eve  can  ascend  the  river  for  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  above  Turtle  ('reek,  for  which  distance,  as 
the  banks  "Tadually  withdraw  from  the  river  ou  each  side, 
they  impart  to  the  fancy  of  the  spectator  a  scene  resembling 
some  ot  the  more  comfortable  descriptions  of  a  highland 

I  L^ 

glen,  Lriven  by  some  of  the  late  romantic  writers  of  Scotland. 
l»uf  perhaps  the  most  picturesque,  feature  in  the  whole 
1  andscap'e,  is  the  winding  stream  ol'Turlle  ( Ireek.  above  whose 
junction  with  the  Monongahela,  the  highland-looking  glen 
just  mentioned,  properly  begins.  This  stream  issues,  as  has 
been  said,  from  a  <r\cn  northward  of  the  river.  When  it  first 


124  THE    WILDERNKSS. 

flows  out  of  the  gap  of  the  glen,  its  course  is  about  south 
west:  but,  when  within  a  quarter  of  a,  mile  of  the  river,  it 
changes  its  direction  to  the  south-east,  forming  by  that  means 
a  kind  of  peninsula  or  point  of  land,  lying  between  it  and  the 
river,  in  the  shape  of  a  triangle,  which  triangle  consists  alto 
gether  of  a  level  river  bottom  of  rich  land  of  three  or  four 
hundred  acres,  and  is  the  identical  spot  where  our  friend  Gil 
bert  Frazier  had  made  his  residence. 

The  wild  and  sylvan  appearance  of  this  interesting  valley 
in  "  Braddock's  Times,"  is  now  changed  by  the  hand  of  in 
dustry  to  one  more  rural  and  more  gratifying  to  the  eye  oi' 
the  philanthropist.  In  those  Times  one  solitary  dwelling, 
that  of  Frazier,  was  alone  to  be  seen.  Now,  on  both  sides 
of  the  river,  as  far  as  the  view  can  extend,  numerous  plea 
sant  residences,  some  of  which  are,  even  elegant,  surrounded 
with  flourishing  plantations,  decorate  the  scene,  and  sug 
gest  pleasing  reflections  to  everv  heart  that  wishes  well  to 
humanity. 


1HK     \\ir.DER\KSS.  1*25 


CHAPTER   XT. 

TI>  toll  red   F-'loddeir.-;  dismal  talo, 
\inl  rai^e  tli"  linn  <  r.vii   wail  :" 
Tradition,  legend,  tnno  and,  • 
Sli-ill   m.-iiiv  an  a  ;ro  that  wail  prolo 
Still  front  the  sire  the  sun  shall  hear, 
Of  the  slern  strife  and  carmine  drear 

Of  Hodden's  fatal  fie 

When  shivered  was  fair  Scotland's  spear, 
And  bi  oken  was  iier  si 

^COTT. 

situati'Mi  of  the  French  garrison  at.  Fort  ])u  Qu:  sue 
the  spring1   MP,;!   c::irlr  part    of  the    sr, minor  of  1755, 
ATIS  ratlier  perplexing  and   precarious.      .Mon>.  i)o  N'i'iiors, 
,,-h;)   liad    succooded   St.  Pierre  as  iis  o-ovornor,  had  at   this 
iino    only   about    four   hundred   French   soldiers  under   his 
•oiimiand,   \\\c   remainder  of  those    tliat  had   i'ou«hi   at  the 
iJreal  Meadows  havinjr  l)(>eu  detached   to   other  forts.      He 
ad  -:iken  "T"a;    pains,  it    is    true,  to   conciliate   the  Indians, 
nd  had  in  reality  succeeded   in  acquiring  over  die  different 
ril>es  •!   vast  iniluence.      Siiil  they  wore  too  lit'li.-  under  his 
ind  were  loo  restless  a;r.i  roviu»'  in    their   iia'nis   to 


he  wished  to  possess.      lie   had.  therefore,  repealedlv  wril- 

:en  to  the   Canadian   i>'o-,  eminent,   for   succors:   and  as  soon 

s    the    season    permitted,  that   ofovernment   had  made  exer- 

iims   io  send  forward  to  him  hoth  a  reinforcement   of  men, 

ml  a  supply  of  provisions  and  military  stores. 

These,  however,  had  not  trot  down  from  l,e  Bcp.uf  before 
he  t-dlinir  of  the  waters,  and  Do  \  illiers  could  not  now  ov- 
,)ecl  lliem  hefore  the  waters  should  a^ain  rise.  A  few  days' 
rain,  he  kn*'W.  would  produce  that,  ollocl,  and  for  this  he 
'iad  in  vain,  with  threat  anxietv.  waited  for  several  weeks. 
Matters  were  in  this  slate  at  the  garrison,  when,  ahout  the 
leo-inniii"  of  .Inlv  some  fndinns  informed  him  of  the  rip- 


126  THE    WILBKRXESS. 

proach  of  Braddoek.  Ho  immediately  pent  out  three  or 
i'our  trusty  scouts  to  watch  the  motions  of  the  British,  and 
soon  received  mlcUi-renee  that  they  had  cropped  to  the  south 
sine  of  the  Alononsrahela.  He  then  perceived  that  iheir  in 
tention  \vr  by  the  way  ol'  Turtle  ('reck,  there 
beip.o-  no  other  fordin<r.  place  between  thai  and  !)u  Qti< -siic. 

To  dispute1  the  passage  with  them  was  his  lirst  intention, 
hut  resolving  to  view  die  ground  before  he  concluded  on  ids 
measures,  lie  for  the  first  time,  paid  a  visit  to  Fra/iers, 
where  lie  unhappily  beheld,  wilh  surprise  and  adniiratior. 
the  charms  of  Maria.  A  violent  passion  for  that  v.i. 
nate  yoiin'.>  women  immediately  seized  upon  his  sold.  The 
hurried  and  alarming  nature  of  the  crisis,  however,  imperi 
ously  demanding  all  his  attention,  prevented  him  from  at 
that  lime  declaring  it;  but  he  resolved  to  do  so  as  soon  as 
the  approaching  contest  should  bo  decided.  J?e  \  illiors 
was  a  widow-"!'  e,f  about  thirl  v  '.'ears  of  a  (re.  of  ;,  -finpe'' 
bold,  sano'uine,  and  irritable,  ami  a  man  who  permiuod  !io 
scruples  of  reii<;'ion  "r  morality  to  stand  in  tlie  way  of  bis 
gratifications. 

On  viewing  the  ford,  ho  perceived  at.  once  that  he  had  not 
a  force  sullicient  !o  contest  its  passage  to  any  ffood  purpose, 
with  the  army  that  lie  understood  was  coming  against  him. 
lie  therefore  resolved  to  adopt  another  plan,  in  which  the 
Indians  could  render  him  efficient  service,  as  bcin<r  more 
suited  to  their  inodo  of  warfare.  This  was-  '«>  form 
buscade,  into  which  the  British  minlit  be  ensnared  to  their 
destruction,  lie  accordingly  selected  the  ground  we  have 
before  described  for  that  purpose  ;  and,  as  in  case  oi'  its 
failure,  he  did  not  wish  his  garrison  to  bo  much  weakened, 
he  resolved  chiefly  to  omplov  Indians  in  the  all  air. 

He  returned  to  the  fort,  and  having  assembled  about  four 
hundred  Indians,  who  were  all  excellent  marksmen,  he  in 
formed  them  of  his  design,  and  received  their  ready  assent 
to  put  it  into  execution.  To  each  oi'  these  Indians  he  gave 
two  loaded  riiles  and  eighteen  charges  of  powder  and  ball. 
'With  these  riiles  over  their  shoulders,  and  their  tomahawks 
and  scalping-knives  slun<r  by  their  sides,  these  warriors  pro 
ceeded  on  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  July  from  the  fort,  to  the; 
place  of  ambush,  in  order  to  lay  it  during  the  niuhi.  as  the 


THE    WILDERNESS.  JVJ7 

liritish  were  expected  to  cross  the  lord  the  next  day.  l)e 
\  illiers,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  of  his  best  French  soldiers 
;  •rnnrpiiiiied  them.  Before  the  Indians  departed,  they  as- 
f-'-mbled  outside  the  fort,  and  loudly  (-haunted  the  following 

1f\tr  Song. 

Soii£  of  warriors!    bold  and  braw. 

Now  we  haste  against  the  foe, 
Now  like  warriors  we'll  behave, 
And  lav  the  fell  invaders  low. 
We'll  lay  them  mangled  in  the  dust; 
Their  bones  shall  rot 
I'pon  the  spot  ; 

Their  flesh — what  wolves  and  panthers  span-. 
Shall  yield  corruption  to  the  air; 

The  arms  we  bear  not,  off,  shall  rust, 

Which  when  our  sons  and  daughters  find. 
As  through  the  woods  they  chase  the  deer. 

They'll  call  our  valiant  deeds  to  mind. 
And  say — "•  our  fathers  conquered  here!" 

Sons  of  warriors!    now  be  strong, 

Hurry  to  the  ;j!orions  :  tril'e, 
Drive  the  leaden  showers  alonir, 

And  fiercely  wield  the  scalping  knife; 
J]o!d  children  we  of  warlike  race! 
Our  :-harpciied  steel 
Their  hearts  shall  feel  : 
Our  tomahav,  ks  shall  pierce  their  brain. 
Who  dare  to  meet  us  on  the  plain, 

And  think  us  from  that  land  to  chase, 

Which  Manelo.  the  mighty,  trave. 
And  which  our  fathers  ne'er  would  yield  { 
Are  we  Ir.-n  strong  !    are  we  less  brave! 
No!    soon  we'll  jiro\e  it  on  the  fick!  ' 

"  Ver..  eanci  .  '.    ::  ••'•anco  !    sous  of  war  '" 

Hark,  our  murdered  fathers  (.TV— 
"  Steel  your  souls,  and  drive  afar 

The  execrated  enemy  ! 
For  merciless,  with  lire  and  sword. 
The  v  lieree]  v  conn- 
To  work  vour  doom, 
As  ours,  in  fnnner  da_\s,  they  wrought, 
Whi-n  f(.r  our  ualhe  land  \\  e  fmi^ht — 
Jint   \eivjeance  no\\    von  wi!!  allord  !'' 
All,  :Maueto!    hear,  hear  our  vow  ! 
Suit'l  to  a\eiiLre  our  fathers'  i;,t(.  ; 

We'll  stendv  haste  with  I'urv  now, 
Tn  dust  to  trainf)  the  foes  we  hate  ! 


128  THE    WILDKRNE89. 

De  Villiers  arrived  at  the  destined  spot  long  before  day 
break.  He  gave  the  Indians  the  necessary  instructions  how 
to  act,  and  having  placed  two  hundred  of  them  in  each  of 
the  Bullies  before  noticed,  he  waited  with  his  French  troops 
at  some  distance,  also  concealed,  for  the  approach  of  the 
enemy. 

It  was  about  noon  when  the  British,  having  taken  some 
refreshment  upon  the  southern  bank  of  the  river,  General 
Braddock  gave  orders  for  passing1  over.  His  van,  compo 
sed  of  some  light  companies,  and  a  company  of  grenadiers, 
to  the  number  of  three  hundred  men,  when  about  half  way 
over,  were  unexpectedly  fired  upon  by  a  small  party  of 
French,  who  showed  themselves  among  the  trees  near  the 
bank.  On  firing,  this  parly  immediately  retired  back  from 
the  river,  and  Braddock  ordered  his  van  •  to  hasten  after 
them.  On  perceiving  this  affair,  Colonel  Washington  rode 
up  to  the  commander-in-chief,  and  begged  him  not  to  follow 
the  French,  as  evidently  such  a  small  number  of  troops, 
acting  as  they  did,  by  just  showing  themselves  and  retiring, 
wciv  only  intended  as  a  decoy  into  some  ambuscade. 

"  My  orders  are  to  pursue  these  fellows,"  returned  Brad- 
dock;  "and  colonel  Washington  I  have  not  been  so  long  a 
soldier,  I  hope,  without  knowing  how  to  lead  an  army  over  a 
ford  not  more  than  a  knee  deep,  in  the  face  of  a  stronger  op 
position  than  a  few  Frenchmen,  without  asking  advice  from 
any  man.  I  shall  ask  your  opinion  when  I  think  I  need  it." 

Washington  made  no  reply.  He  only  sighed  as  he  per 
ceived  General  Gage,  who  commanded  the  van,  leading  it  on, 
after  he  had  gained  the  shore  in  pursuit  of  a  few  Frenchmen, 
who  even  if  they  were  either  destroyed  or  captured,  could  af 
ford  no  laurels  to  the  victors. 

"Alas  !"  said  he,  riding  forward  to  Captain  Adderly,  who 
was  leading  on  his  company  of  Virginia  rangers. — "  This 
is  indeed  madness — I  am  afraid  we  shall  pay  dear  for  it.  We 
must  do  our  duty,  however." 

"  I  shall  obey  your  directions  alone,  Colonel,"  replied  Ad 
derly,  "  to-day,  as  1  know  they  will  not  be  inconsistent  with 
my  duty."  So  said  all  the  Virginia  Captains.  At  that  in 
stant,  Braddock,  at  the  head  of  the  main  body,  had  gained 
the  beach,  and  the  order  was  given  for  the  whole  to  follow 


THE     WILDERNESS.  129 

in  the  track  that  had  been  taken  by  the  van.  Washington 
r>  \v  a  signal  lor  the  Provincials  to  advance;  for  he  deter 
mined  not  to  fnisake  the  regulars,  although  he  so  greatly  dis- 
i;;>pmved  of  their  proceedings  in  thus  inconsiderately  plung 
ing  into  a  thick  grassy  wood,  with  which  they  were  totally 
i  nacquainted,  in  pursuit  of  a  few  fugitive  Frenchmen. 

Keeping  an  anxious  eye  upon  the  motions  of  the  soldiers 
in  the  van,  he  soon  observed  them  following  the  French  up 
the  front  of  the  table-ground  between  the  gullies  already  des 
cribed.  Only  a  few  scattering  shots  had  been  as  yet  fired 
by  the  French,  as  they  retreated,  which  were  evidently  in 
tended  to  allure  the  British  after  them,  between  the  gullies 
'.vher;1  the  Indians  lay  hidden,  and  silently  watching  for  their 
prey.  In  this  they  succeeded  to  their  utmost  wish.  The 
-•in  ascended  the  front  of  this  piece  of  ground  with  alacrity, 
..'id  proceeded  forward  upon  it  for  about  thirty  or  forty  paces, 
•  isnc.'rting  and  fearing  nothing,  when  aH  at  once  the  dreadful 
war-hoop  was  heard  ;  two  hundred  rifles  from  the  ground  on 
their  left,  poured  their  destructive  contents  upon  them,  and 

ie  next  instant,  two  hundred  from  the  right  imitated  the  ter 
rible  example.  Two  thirds  of  the  van  were  now  prostrated 
to  the  earth.  The  firing  for  some  minutes  ceased,  as  the  In 
dians  had  now  comparatively  few  objects  against  whom  to 
cirect  it.  Braddock  conceiving  the  danger  to  be  over,  and 
determine  to  avenge  the  slaughter  of  the  van,  and  also  anxious 
!o  rescue  tiiose  who  still  survived  this  murderous  fire  from 
i  he  invi>ible  assailants,  ordered  a  large  division  of  the  main 
bodv  to  ascend  the  height,  and  forming  there  in  two  parties, 
*o  rush  with  fixed  bayonets  into  each  of  the  ravines  and  drive 
out  or  destroy  tin1  concealed  enemy.  This  corps  gallantly  as- 
Bended  to  the  scene  of  death,  when  the  firing  was  again  opened 
•vith  as  much  fury  as  before.  At  the  same  time,  the  survi- 

ors  of  the  van  were  attacked  from  above  by  the  French,  un 
der  I)e  \  illiers,  and  they  fell  hastily  back  upon  their  com 
panions,  who  were  now  fallen  into  too  much  confusion  to 
•barge  the  enemy  according  to  their  instructions.  Dreading 
Mioliier  volley,  every  man  of  them  who  had  not  fallen,  has 
tened  back  from  the  fatal  spot  to  the  lower  ground  in  great 
terror. 

This  panic  was  communicated  to  the  whole  of  the  regulars, 


130  THE    WILDERNESS. 

who  would  soon  have  re-crossed  the  river  in  iiill  flight,  had 
not  their  officers,  by  great  exertions  restrained  them.  Gen 
eral  Braddoek.  who  was  now  mad  uith  vexation,  and  rage, 
rushed  in  amongst  them,  exhorting  them  to  perseverance, 
and  they  \\ero  once  more  brought  to  stand  their  around. 

At  this  crisis,  Washington  again  interfered  with  his  advice, 
that  the  army  should  not  attempt  to  dislodge  the  assailants, 
but  draw  off  from  the  reach  of  their  fire,  and  continue  their 
route  to  Fort  Du  Quesne,  without  paying  these  concealed 
enemies  any  more  attention. 

But  Braddock  was  resolved  to  take  another  course.  lie 
detached  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  men  round,  at  some 
distance,  by  the  left  of  the  ambush  ground,  in  order  to  come 
upon  the  hidden  enemy  in  another  direction,  expecting  by 
that  means  to  have  them  surrounded,  at  least  to  get  them 
hemmed  in  between  two  fires.  This  movement,  however, 
was  soon  discovered'by  De  Villiers,  who  seizing  on  a  favor 
able  position,  by  which  this  detachmcrt,  be  knew,  must  pass, 
met  it  there,  and  cut  every  man  of  it  off,  without  on  his  side, 
losing  a  single  soldier. 

In  the  meantime,  Braddock  was  resolved  to  make  a  strong 
er,  and,  as  he  conceived,  an  irresistible  charge  with  his  whole 
force  upon  the  enemy.  He  therefore  called  upon  his  troops 
to  come  on  a  third  time,  and  leading  the  way  himself,  he  was 
followed  by  his  devoted  soldiers,  and  the  death-dealing  ra 
vines  had  victims  on;-e  more  within  their  reach. 

The  French,  however,  were  by  this  time  employed  with 
the  detachment  that  had  been  sent  to  take  them  in  ilank.  so 
•  that  Braddock's  men  in  place  of  having,  as  before,  to  sustain 
a  fire  from  three  different  directions,  had  now  to  sustain  it 
only  from  t\vo,  and  would  no  doubt  have  dislodged  the  sava 
ges  from  their  concealment,  had  they  boldly  pushed  upon 
them  withthe  bayonet  the  moment  they  ascended  the  ground. 
But  instead  of  doing  this,  Braddock  imprudently  took  time 
to  form  them  into  two  columns,  with  as  much  deliberation 
and  formality  as  if  he  were  parading-  them  at  a  review  in 
Hyde  Park.' 

The  consequence  of  this  slowness  of  motion  was  to  re 
store  courage  to  the  Indians,  who,  as  they  were  not  now 
supported  by  the  French,  had  felt  some  intimidation  from 


THE    WILDERNESS.  131 

the  eagerness  with  which  the  British  seemed  to  approach 
them,  and  scarcely  expected  any  thing  else  than- destruction 
in  the  very  heart  of  their  coverts.  This  pause,  however, 
restored  their  energy, and  their  mortal  lire  again  opened  upon 
the  troops.  Here  one  half  of  Braddock's  officers  were  killed, 
he  himself  had  three  horses  successively  shot  under  him. 
and  his  whole  division  soon  began  to  lose  that  unfortunately 
compact  array,  into  which  he  had  taken  so  much  trouble  to 
form  them,  and  which  had  only  conduced  to  their  more'  cer 
tain  destruction.  In  a  short  time  they  fell  into  absolute 
confusion,  and  fled,  some  of  them  back  to  the  lower  ground, 
and  some  forward  to  that  lately  occupied  bv  the  French. 
Braddock  was  carried  back  with  the  stream  of  those  who 
ed  in  the  former  direction,  and  near  a  spring  immediate!) 
•cnc'ath  the  point  of  the  most  western  of  the  two  ravines, 
while  attempting  again  to  rally  his  broken  troops,  he  had  a 
fourth  horse  shot  under  him,  and  while  he  was  mounting 
another,  he  received  a  bail  in  his  breast. 

The  Indians  had  seen  him  fall,  and  about  a  hundred  of 
them  rushed  out  of  the  adjoining  ravine,  in  order  to  sei/e 
him.  Washington,  resolving  at  all  risks  to  save  his  com 
mander  from  the  bands  of  the  savages,  called  forward  Ad- 
.lerly  with  his  Virginians,  who  charged  the  Indians  as  they 
were  carrying  oil' the  body.  A  voiles'  from  the  fatal  ravine 
soon  prostrated  nearly  one  half  of  Adderlv's  men;  but 
Washington  had  by  this  time  shot  wiili  a  pistol  one  of  the 
Indians  who  was  dragging  Braddock  to  the  ravine,  and 
plunged  his  sword  into  the  body  of  another,  when  his  horse 
was  killed  under  him.  and  a  dozen  of  shots  tired  at  his 
head,  some  of  which  perforated  his  hat,  and  carried  a\\a\ 
its  plumes  and  other  parts  of  its  decorations.  Adderly  see 
ing  his  danger,  rushed  furiously  forward  with  the  remnant 
of  his  company,  to  his  rescue,  and  buried  his  sword  in  the 
entrails  of  a  savage  who  was  levelling  a  murderous  aim  at 
Washington,  within  a  few  feet,  of  him.  The  rifle  went  oil', 
but  its  direction  had  been  changed  by  Adderlv's  blow,  and 
the  bail  onlv  tore  the  epaulette  oil  Washington's  left,  shoul 
der.  In  a  moment  \\  ashiugton  was  on  another  horse,  when 
perceiving  that  a  number  of  Indians  had  again  laid  hold  of 
tin1  wounded  Braddock,  he  plunged  in  amon:1  them  with 


132  THE    WILDERNESS. 

tremendous  fury,  and  levelled  three  or  four  of  them  to  ihe 
earth  with  the  irresistible  sweeps  of  his  broadsword. 

Another  vollev  from  the  Indians,  who  perceived  that  until 
he  was  destroyed,  thev  could  not  capture  the  jreneral,  now 
took  place  at  his  person.  His  horse  was  again  shot,  and 
his  coat  perforated  in  five  or  six  places  :  and  Adderly's  lew 
surviving  troops  would  not  have  been  able  to  resist  the  rush 
of  Indians  that  was  now  made  upon  him,  had  not,  another 
Virginia  company,  commanded  by  a  Captain  Poulson,  jjiven 
its  timely  assistance,  and  the  savages  were  once  more  driven 
into  their  lurking1  place,  not,  however,  until  they  had  un 
horsed  Captain  Adderly,  and  carried  him,  together  with  five 
or  six  of  his  men,  with  them. 

Washington  now  had  Braddock  placed  in  a  light  tumbrel, 
which  was  convenient,  and  sending  it  hastily  off  the  field, 
put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Virginians  and  such  of  the 
regulars  as  yet  stood  their  ground,  in  order  to  rescue  a  di\i- 
sion  which  was  still  on  the  fatal  height  between  the  gullies, 
the  object  of  attack  from  the  Indians  on  the  eastern  side. 
This  party,  about  one  hundred  and  seventy  in  number,  had, 
at  the  time  their  companions  lied  back  in  confusion,  rather 
advanced  forward  to  the  ground  lately  occupied  by  the 
French,  so  that  they  wore  for  some  time  a  short  distance 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  Indian  lire,  but  attempting  to  return 
to  assist  their  companions  during  the  struggle  round  Brad- 
dock,  the  Indians  in  the  eastern  ravine  so  effectually  fired 
upon  them  that  they  were  compelled  to  draw  back.  Their 
presence,  however,  had  the  good  effect  of  occupying  these 
Indians  so  as  to  prevent  them  from  joining  in  the  contest  for 
Braddock,  in  consequence  of  which  the  Virginians  succeed 
ed  in  his  rescue.  But  Braddock  was  scarcely  borne  off  the 
field,  when  the  situations  of  these  men  became  extremely 
dangerous.  The  French  were  seen  returning  in  triumph 
after  the  slaughter  of  the  unfortunate  detachment  that  had 
been  sent  to  take  them  in  the  rear,  and  the  Indians  in  both 
ravines,  the  contest  for  Braddock  being  now  abandoned, 
were  impatiently  waiting  to  shower  upon  them  their  de 
structive  balls  as  soon  as  they  approached  near  enough  to 
be  struck  by  them. 


THK    WILDERNESS.  133 

The  active  and  vigilant  eye  of  Washington  soon  perceived 
their  danger,  and  lie  resolved  to  release  them,  or  perish  with 
them.  About  two  hundred  of  the  regulars  who  could  not 
he  rallied  when  they  took  to  flight,  had  already  recrossed 
the  river,  but  including  his  Virginians,  there  was  still  a  force 
of  nearly  three  hundred  on  the  ground. 

"Come  on,  my  brave  soldiers!"  said  he,  "we  must 
rescue  our  companions  yonder  from  impending  destruc 
tion.  If  we  only  give  sufficient  employment  to  the  savages 
in  any  of  these  ravines,  our  soldiers  may  escape.  Let  us  try 
this  eastern  one,  it  appears  the  more  easily  assailable.  Hark  ! 
the  French  above  yonder  have  fired  upon  our  men  already, 
At  it,  my  boys,  and  every  man  do  his.-  best  either  by  firing, 
or  by  the  bayonet,  to  destroy  the  savages.  \Viden  yuir  ranks 
— the  less  compactly  you  rush  on,  the  better — Forward  !  " 

The  soldiers  gave  a  loud  shout  for  they  now  felt  confidence. 
Their  companions  on  the  upper  ground  heard  it,  and  return 
ed  it  as  a  signal  of  co-operation.  In  a  minute  the  eastern 
ravine  was  attacked.  The  savages  fired  out  of  it,  but  killed 
only  about  twelve  of  the  assailants,  for  the  latter  were  not 
now  in  such  close  order  as  to  prevent  their  balls  from 
missing. 

"Keep  these  Indians  in  play,  my  brave  fellows,  for  some 
minutes,  "  cried  Washington,  "  and  with  the  blessing  of  God, 
I  shall  soon  return  to  you." 

So  saving  he  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  ascended  be 
tween  the  ravines  at  lull  {light  towards  those  he  wished  to 
rescue.  Three  gallant  fellows  on  horseback,  named  Peron- 
ny,  Burton,  and  Craig,  voluntarily  followed  him.  As  he 
passed  the  length  of  the  ravines,  a  volley  was  fired  at  him 
I rom  that  on  the  west,  but  he  was  at  too  great  a  distance 
from  it,  to  be  hurt  by  it,  The  attention  of  the  savages  on 
the  east  was  at  this  time  so  much  employed  in  resisting  the 
;iUack  of  the  troops,  that  they  scarcely  attended  to  him. 
Several  of  them,  however,  fired  at  him  and  his  followers, 
two  of  whom,  Peronny  and  Burton  were  killed;  but  the 
f-wiftness  of  Washington's  horse,  or  rather  the  protecting 
hand  of  a  kind  providence,  saved  him  to  his  country. 

The  troops  to  whom  he  advanced  received  him  with  a 
••heer.  "Follow  me  rapidly,"  said  he  to  thorn  ;  "keep  on 


134  THE    WILDERNESS. 

this  side,  and  shoot  every  savage  you  can  see  as  you  fly 
past — but  delay  for  nothing'"  He  immediately  turned  his 
horse,  and  galloped  out  of  the  dangerous  ground,  followed 
by  the  whole  party  who  discharged  their  muskets  into  the 
eastern  ravine,  as  they  passed  it  with  all  their  speed.  They 
only  received  some  scattering  shots  from  the  savages,  which 
killed  but  one  or  two  of  their  number. 

"To  the  bank  of  the  river  now,  my  brave  men!"  cried 
Washington,  to  the  whole  of  the  troops. 

They  obeyed  him,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  he  there  formed 
them  into  ranks,  and  ordered  them  to  reload  their  pieces,  as 
he  perceived  that  the  Indians  manifested  a  disposition  to 
pursue  them.  On  seeing  the  .British  thus  prepared  to  receive 
them,  however,  on  open  ground,  neither  the  savages  nor  the 
French  thought  proper  to  advance;  and  the  troops  were 
safely  conducted  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  where  they 
were  soon  rejoined  by  those  who  had  previously  fled  from 
the  engagement. 

On  reviewing  the  reliques  of  that  fine  body  of  men,  which, 
only  a  few  hours  before  this  disastrous  affair,  expected  thai 
very  evening  to  expel  the  enemy  from  Fort  Du  Quesne,  it 
was  found  that  out  of  twelve  hundred,  very  little  more  than 
live  hundred  remained,  and  of  the  officers  only  twenty  out 
of  the  eighty-five  \vhieh  they  numbered  before  the  engage 
ment,  now  survived.  The  artillery,  all  the  military  stores, 
and  baggage  of  every  kind,  and  even  the  private  cabinet  of 
General  Braddock  which  contained  his  instructions,  were 
left  in  possession  of  the  enemy. 

Of  the  Indians  it  lias  been  ascertained  that  not  more  than 
eight  or  ten  were  killed,  and  perhaps,  as  many  wounded, 
and  of  the  French  a  still  fewer  number.  They  had  taker, 
nearly  forty  prisoners,  independent  of  the  wounded  whc 
could  not  retire  with  their  companions,  and  whom  thev 
carried  that  evening  into  fort  Du  Quesne. 

The  defeated  army  being  apprehensive  that  the  French 
would  bring  their  whole  force  out  of  the  fort  to  pursue  them 
that  very  evening  began  a  precipitate  retreat  to  the  camp  01 
Colonel  Dunbar  at  the  Great  Meadows.  As  they  were  near 
ly  destitute  of  provisions,  Colonel  Washington,  who  seemed 
to  be  the  life  of  the  whole  party,  hastened  on  before  them 


Din    WILDKRNESS.  135 

HI  order  to  procure  some,  as  well  as  to  oriler  comfortable 
accommodations  for  them  when  they  should  arrive.  He 
iirule  such  despatch  that  he  reached  DunbarVcamp  the  even 
ing  of  the  next  day,  procured  the  provisions,  and  by  his  in- 
•-.}<  Utigable  exertions,  the  wearied  and  disheartened  remnant 
c>:  t hi-;  iroops  were  brought  forward  in  a  i'ew  days  without 
cr.L'e'inir  with  any  fresh  disaster. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  at  this  place,  the  unfortunate  Urad- 
•:<;ek  died,  and  was  buried  on  a  hill,  where  his  grave  is  Jo  be 
ri'-'eri  to  this  day. 


*   HAPTEIi   ML 


Vmt  \vhr-n  my  niphtly  much  )  try 

Sure  h:irr;iss"<i  out  with  p;iiu  and  ynrl, 
My  t.(iil-l)niit  nerves,  am!  tcar-wi  n:  <  vo, 

JV<M:JI  \s  ;it<  -liiiiLrs  with  th<:  jii^iilly  thief. 
*  'r,  it'  I  slumber,  I'nicy  chicfj 

Rcii/iss  hajj^ini-wild,  in  sore,  atiright: 
Kc'it  d;iy,  all  Litter,  hrintxs  relief 

From  such  a  horror-breathing  niirlit. 

BURNS. 

•\T  this  disastrous  realization  of  his  worst  anticipations, 
Inn-  did  the  heart  of  Washington  bleed  within  him!  h  bled 
n:ile':d  severely  .'  but  it  did  not,  as  before  the  catastrophe, 
s'nlv  under  the  pressure  ot  the  calamity.  There  is  in  the 
minds  of  men,  especially  of  brave  men,  an  elasticity  which 
oiten  strengthens  them,  so  as  to  bear  up-  against  any  misfor- 
ti  ne,  however  «rreat,  when  it  is  actually  present,  hut  which 
tl'H-s  not  always  exert  itself  during  the  mere  contemplation 
ot  an  a()proactnnir  evil.  Or,  perhaps,  the  imagination  being 
r:.ore  actively  employed  in  depicting  the  horrors  of  the  evil 


136  THE     WILDERNESS. 

before  it  conies,  is  apt  to  depict  them  m  their  most  "loorny 
and  appalling  colors,  so  deeply  and  so  strongly  that  the 
mind  can  scarcely  endure  the  picture.  But  the  calamity 
being  present,  the  mind,  as  it  had  nothing  more  to  do,  but  to 
suffer,  submits,  undoubtedly  with  pain,  but  often  at  the  same 
lime  \viih  fortitude. 

Washington  indeed  felt  keenly  and  sorrowfully  on  this 
occasion.  Nay,  he  had  anticipations  of  the  most  heart 
breaking  kind,  even  yet,  to  agonise  his  soul.  Alas  !  he  feared 
that  this  defeat  might  be  attended  with  the  worst  of  conse 
quences  to  his  Maria.  lie  did  not  indeed  suppose  that  the 
Indians  would  ofl'er  any  immediate  violence  to  either  herself 
or  her  friends,  with  whom  they  haiMong  lived  on  amicable 
terms.  But  there  was  now  no  prospect  of  her  soon  being 
rescued  from  that  Wilderness  of  savages  and  licentious 
Frenchmen,  where  every  ihiirjf  was  ruled  by  violence  and 
caprice,  and  where  he  conceived  that  a  beautiful  young  fe 
male  like  her  could  not.  even  in  the  most  tranquil  times,  IK; 
a  single  day  safe  from  insult. 

During  the  whole  of  the  battle,  her  imaire  never  had  been 
absent  from  Ins  mind,  and  sadlv,  sadly  did  he  grieve  that  its 
•catastrophe  was  likejy  10  be  such  as  to  preclude  the  possi 
bility  of  his  enjoying  only  one  minute's  interview  with  her, 
although  her  residence  was  in  view  of  the  very  ground  on 
which  he  fought. 

While  mustering  the  defeated  troops  after  conducting 
them  to  the  south  shore  of  the  river,  he  cast  his  anxious 
eye  across  the  stream,  and  beheld  her,  together  with  the 
rest  of  Frazier's  family,  looking,  he  believed  mournfully 
looking,  at  the  unfortunate  army.  lie  imagined  that  she 
distinguished  him.  He  bowe^  his  head  as  he  sat  on  horse 
back,  and  he  had  the  happiness  to  see  that  she  waved  her 
hand  in  return.  Gilbert  and  his  sons  took  off  their  fur  caps 
and  also  returned  his  salute.  He  even  believed  that  he  dis 
cerned  Gilbert,  lifting  his  hands  and  face  towards  heaven,  as 
if  to  pray  for  his  safety.  Tlis  heart  burned  within  him  to 
visit  them,  but  his  duty  compelled  him  to  proceed  almost 
instantaneously  for  the  Great  Meadows.  He  again  renewed 
his  obeisance  to  the  family,  and  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards 
set  off. 


I  HE     WILDERNESS.  137 

He  hud  scarcely  proceeded  out  of  view  of  the  troops, 
v.'hen  he  heard  a  voice  calling'  him  by  name.  He  stopped 
his  horse,  and  the  prophet  Tonnaleuka  arose  out  of  a  thicket 
rMat  \\  a.-  close  by  him. 

"Beloved  of  heaven1/'  cried  the  prophet;  "I  will  not, 
detain  yon.,  for  1  know  your  errand  must  be  one  of  haste. 

\las  '.  ihis  has  been  a  calamitous  day.  I  saw  you  escape 
in  safety,  and  I  thank  the  Great  Spirit.  My  son.  Charles 

ulderlv.  has  not  been  so  fortunate!  But  to  what  the  Great 
ik-in'j-  orders,  we  must  subniii.  Farewell,  my  son — I  will 
not  detain  YOU." 

"  Fa: her,"  said  Washington,  '•  if  tliou  Invest  me,  oh.  watch 
e.er  the  safetv  of  Maria!  Alas!  she  is  too  beauteous  and 
t"0  iender'  a  flower  to  be  sale  amidst  the  storms  of  such  a 
desert.  Let.  me  know,  wherever  i  may  be,  if  ausrht  befalls 

I'.-!'." 

••I  shall  wutcii  ever  her,"  said  file  prophet,  "and  shall 
1-  t  you  know  i!'  she  be  unfortunate.  [  concealed  myself 
here  that  I  might,  salute  and  bless  vou  as  you  passed.  Fare- 
well,  and  may  the  God  whom  you  worship  still  protect. 
\  on,  as  he  has  done  this  dav!" 

"  Farewell,  father,"  replied  Washington,  and  the  prophet 
disappearing  amonir  the  bushes,  he  continued  his  journey 
\\  nil  a  heart  greatly  relieved  by  this  short  interview. 

The  feeiinirs  of  Maria,  and  indeed  of  all  Fraxier's  family, 
d  '.rinir  the-  momentous  scenes  which  had  been  that  day  acted 
within  their  immediate  view,  may  be  easily  imagined  by  any 
reader  of  a  <mod  heart,  who  reiiects  upon  their  circumstan- 
c--s  and  situation.  Gilberts  whole  soul  was  with  his  coun- 
tr'.'men,  and  his  heart  wanned  when  he  beheld  their  red 
uniforms. 

••  \h,  .Nelly,"  said  he.  "they  are  something  like  Christian 
soldiers.  Th"v  put  me  min'  o'  Ireland  and  Maughrvgowan. 
O'i.  may  God  help  them  against  the  sav.;<_res  !" 

••  A  nidi,"  said  .\eir  ;  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  heaven, 
U1  add  fervency  to  the  prayer. 

As  to  I'addy  Fra/ier  and  Doctor  Killbreath,  the  vigilance 
of  the  l''reneh  (irevente'l  ihem  during  the  whole  of  the  pre 
ceding  spring,  from  venturlnir  to  manifest  their  partiality  for 
'he  British  can--'1  bv  anv  active  exertion  in  its  tavor  ;  and 


138  THE     W1LDKKNKSS. 

during  the  whole  of  these  transactions,  they  had  preserved 
a  very  prudent,  though  very  reluctant  neutrality.  From  the 
accounts  they  had  heard  of  the  force  that  was  coming  a»-.iinst 
Fort  i)u  Qucsne,  they  indeed  believed  that,  the  British  were 
now  strong  enough  to  do  their  own  business  effectually  with 
out  their  assistance  ;  and  from  the  appearance  of  the  armv 
when  it  approached,  they  were  confirmed  in  this  belief. 
They  knew  nothing  of  the  ambuscade,  for  it  had  been  laid 
in  the  nijjfht,  and  Do  Viliiers  had  been  so  cautious  as  to 
communicate  the  scheme  to  none  but  those  wiio  were  to  br 
employed  in  iis  execution.  They  wen3,  therefore,  i;Teail\ 
disappointed,  grieved,  and  shocked,  at  the  result  of  the  mem 
orable  battle  of  which  they  had  been  spectators. 

But  who  can  speak  the  agony  of  .Maria's  mind  durinu'  the 
incessant  peals  of  rifles  and  musketrv,  which,  for  three  lonu 
hours,  ratio-  in  her  ears,  and  s"emed  to  her  imagination  to 
carrv  destruction  to  everything  within  their  reach.  Nhe 
knew  that,  her  Charles  was  amon^  the  combatants  ;  she 
had  with  an  anxious  and  ail'ectionate  eye  singled  him  out, 
as  seated  upon  his  prancing  steed  he  led  his  company  of 
rangers  across  the  river,  and  her  view  had  followed  him 
until  the  firing  commenced,  when  her  alarm  and  agitation 
became  so  trreat  that,  unable  to  behold  more,  she  was  obliged 
to  retire  to  her  chamber. 

When  she  was  informed  that  the  troops  were  re-crossing 
the  river,  with  the  hope  of  ainiin  seeing  her  beloved  Charles, 
she  hastened  to  the  porch  before  the  house,  from  which 
the  rest  of  the  family  were  viewing  the  scene.  Here  she 
perceived  Washington,  and  returned  his  salute  as  before- 
mentioned.  But  she  perceived  not  Charles,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  she  returned  to  her  chamber,  in  a  state  of  dreadful 
suspense  as  to  his  fate. 

She  was  in  this  situation  when  Airs.  Killbreath  informed 
her  that  the  French  commander  was  in  the  house,  and  had 
expressed  a  wish  to  see  her. 

•'Tell  him,  my  dear  Nancy,"  said  she,  "that  I  am  really 
indisposed.  The  horrible  scenes  of  this  day  have  rendered 
me  incapable -of  seeing  any  body.  Oh,  Nancy,  Nancy! 
(rod  only  knows  how  terribly  my  heart  is  at  this  moment 
torn  with  suspense  and  agony  !M 


THE     WTT.DEKXESS.  139 

.Nancy  made  her  apology  to  I)e  Villiers.  It  was  of  loo 
reasonable  a  nature  not  to  be  believed,  and  be  was  of  too 
gallant  a  temper  not  to  admit  it.  He  observed,  tbat  be  was 
no;  surprised  at,  her  being  terrified,  and  lie  was  very  sorry 
tbat  the  affair  had  taken  place  so  near  her;  but  ho  hoped 
that  bulb  .Miss  Fra/ier,  and  the  whole  family,  in  whose  wel 
fare  be  protested  himself  to  feel  greatly  interested,  would 
have  recovered  from  their  terrors  by  the  time  he  should 
next  have  the  pleasure  of  visiting  them.  He  then  partook 
of  some  refreshments  with  which  Mrs.  Frazier  presented 
him,  and  returned  to  the  field  of  battle,  where  the  victors 
were  busily  employed,  some  scalping  the  slain,  and  others 
collecting  the  spoil.  He  soon  called  them  together,  and  as 
the  day  was  considerably  advanced,  the  greater  part  of  the 
Indians  accompanied  him  to  Fort  J)u  Quesne,  which  they 
reached  in  triumph  towards  the  evening. 

.Not  Maria,  alone,  but  the  whole  of  Frazier's  family,  felt. 
anxious  to  ascertain  the  fate  of  Charles  Adderly,  whom  they 
had  seen  advancing  to  the  tight,  but  not  returning  from  it. 
As  soon  therefore,  as  the  victors  had  withdrawn  from  the 
field.  Paddy,  Arehy,  and  Doctor  Kiilbreath,  hastened  there 
to  ascertain  the  number  of  the  slain,  and  whether  their  friend 
<  '  harles  \\  as  among  them. 

What  a  melancholy  and  shocking  appearance  this  spot  of 
ground  now  presented  to  their  view  !  Hundreds  of  human 
beings,  who  had  that  morning  rejoiced  in  all  the-  vigor  of 
health,  and  strength,  now  lay  prostrate  before  them,  either 
already  cold  and  insensible  as  the  e.iith  on  which  they  were 
stretched,  or  e!.-e  were  writhing  and  convulsed  in  the  1-ist 
tortures  of  expiring  animation.  Some  had  their  brains  scat 
tered  beside  them,  and  had  expired  on  the  instant;  others 
haif  received  halls  in  their  breasts  or  their  bowels,  or  other 
vital  parts,  which  left  them  in  torment  to  linger  out  a  few 
tedious  hours  of  agonized  existence. 

Into  the  bodies  of  the  greater  portion  of  these  last,  the  In 
dians,  either  for  the  cruel  purpose  of  gratifying  a  malign 
ancy  of  feeling,  by  making  sure  of  their  destruction,  or 
from  the  more  hum, me  motive  of  more  speedily  pulling  an 
cud  to  their  sufferings,  had  plunged  bayonets,  and  driven 
tomahawks,  occasioning  wounds  through  which  the  bowels 


140  THK     WILDERNESS. 

of  many  had  protruded,  and  lay  scattered,  and  often  mang 
led,  upon  the  blood-stained  grass  beside  them.  Upon  every 
one  of  these  unfortunate  men,  ihe  scalping  knife  hud  per 
formed  its  barbarous  office,  and  where  the  skull  had  not 
been  broken  to  peices  by  a  shower  of  bullets,  it  had  been 
stripped  of  its  natural  covering,  in  order  to  furnish  the  sa 
vage  conquerors  with  trophies  of  their  victory. 

'['lie  conquerors,  although  they  had  carried  ofT  a  great 
proportion  of  the  spoil,  had  still  left  a  considerable  quantity 
behind;  enough,  indeed  to  have  made  the  fortunes  of  Fra- 
'  zier'.s  family,  had  they  chosen  to  avail  themselves  of  it.  But 
at.  this  time,  the  feeling's  of  even  Paddy  himself,  who  w;;s 
not  in  general  very  scrupulous  in  such  matters,  were  so 
much  affected  and  shocked  to  behold  such  an  awful  havoc- 
made  upon  human  beings,  that  all  mercenary  feelings  were 
stilled  in  his  breast,  and  he  could  not  carry  away  a  single 
article. 

On  numbering  the  slain,  they  found  them  to  amount  to 
neaiiy  seven  hundred — but  thev  had  the  satisfaction  not.  to 
find  Charles  Adderiy  among  them.  They  returned  home 
with  this  intelligence,  which  wis  soon  imparted  to  Maria 
by  >irs.  Xiiibreath.  and  she  wns  inspired  with  the  hope  that 
providence  might  yei  have  preserved  !iitu  for  better  times. 

"Oh,  ."v.mcy  !"  cried  she,  "although  you  know  the  secret 
of  my  heart — little,  little  can  you  imngine  what  I  this  after 
noon  have  suffered.  Oil  !  had  thev  found  him  there  mant 
led  with  the  rest  of  the:  c  murdered  men.  1  feel  that  a  few 
days  would  have  terminated  my  sufferings,  and  you  would 
have  buriid  me  in  the  same  grave  with  him  I  loved.  Alas! 
I  am  no!  yet  altogether  relieved  of  my  apprehension;  hut  I 
will  trust — Oh  !  ]  viii  pray,  ie-ve^tly  pray,  t  >  rny  God  (or 
his  preservation.  '' 

She  here  requested  Narh-.y  to  kneel  with  her.  and  then 
with  great  r'gjiation  after  thanking  the  Deity  for  the  giearn 
of  hope  which  he  had  allowed  to  dawn  upon  her  mind,  she1 
implored  him  ''to  prevent  it  from  being  at  last  totally  extin 
guished  by  the  destruction  of  the  youth,  upon  whose  preser 
vation  her  own  so  entirely  depended." 

She  had  scarcely  finished,  when  she  heard  the  voice  of 
Tonnaleuka  in  the  outer  room. 


THE     WILDItKXESS.  141 

"Oh,  Nancy!"  said  she,  "if  there  be  comfort  on  earth 
tor  me,  that  holy  man  can  administer  it.  Would  to  heaven, 
that  all  Indians  had  heart*  like  his !  Tell  him,  my  sis.ter, 
•hat  1  wish  to  see  him. " 

Tnnnaleuka  was  soon  with  her.  "Oh,  father,"  said  she, 
"  how  I  feel  relief  in  your  presence,  from  the  torments  which 
this  terrible  day  has  inflicted  on  my  mind.  I  thank  God,  that 
vou.  at  least,  have  met  with  no  misfortune." 

••My  daughter,"  said  the  prophet,  '•much  indeed  have  I 
lelt  for  your  situation  to  day  ;  for  1  knew  the  agony  yon 
would  suffer  in  consequence  of  these  bloody  deeds.  The 
vonih  whom  you  love  was  in  the  midst  of  them;  lint  be 
•••ornforted,  for  he  did  not  fall,  neither  is  he  a  prisoner  in 
Fort  i)u  Qnesne.  But  I  shall  before  many  hours  discover 
the  direction  that  his  captors  have  taken,  and  the  great  Spirit, 
I  doubt  not.  will  protect  him. 

"  Dans/liter,  dry  your  tears!" — ,'lbr  Maria  at  this  lime 
wept  violently,  which  afforded  her  feelings  a  relief  that  the 
scorching  agony  of  her  soul  had  before  prevented  her  from 
receiving.)  This  storm  will  blow  away.  A  calm  will  suc- 
•eed,  and  sunshine  will  yet — for  the  Great  Spirit  is  just — 
ii'ild  your  course,  and  compensate  lor  these  afflictions.  One 
noble  and  glorious  youth  has  this  dav  been  miraculously  pre- 
'•erved  by  his  care,  amidst  the  thunder  that,  pealed  around 
him.  and  blasted  hundreds  by  his  side.  My  daughter,  Wash 
ington  is  sale,  and  the  Father  of  the  world  has  shown  kind 
ness  to  men. " 

'•1  know  it.  Father,"  she  replied.      "I  have  beheld  that 

excellent  young  man  out  of  reach  of  the  foes,  whom,  1  am 

'old,  he  alone  restrained   in  their   murderous  career,   and  a- 

midst  the   intensity   of  my  other  griefs,  I  felt  consolation   at 

}\t-  sitrht.  " 

"  .My  daughter,  I  rejoice  that  you  so  respect  this  hero,  al- 
h'niirh  you  know  not  half  his  virtues,  half  his  worth  to  the 
•vorid — that,  world  which  the  Great  llcin^  has  not  forsaken 
'-inn1  he  has  spared  him  to  it;  for  my  daughter,  while  he 
Jives  the  cause  of  mankind  may  suffer,  but  need  never  des- 
>air. " 

"1  know,  Father,"  she  replied,  "that  great  public  good  is 
Jikely  to  result  from  Colonel  Washington's  career,  if  Provi- 


1'3  THE     WILDERNESS. 

deuce  prolongs  it.  I  am  sensibly  aware  of  liis  worth,  greatly 
do  1  rejoice  in  his  safety,  and  aruev.tly  do  .1  hope  for  his  pros 
perity.  But  ah,  there  are  griefs  that,  at  present,  come  closer 
tomyheait.  Chailes  Adderly — Oh,  Father!  is  he  not  in 
danger,  and  can  1  be  in  comfort ! — Alas,  alas,  I  cannot ! " 

"My  daughter,  1  know  your  heart,  I  will  not  therefore 
blame  your  feeling?.  I  sympathise  with  them.  Charles 
Adderly  1  esteem,  I  love — i'or  he  is  worthy  of  both.  1'ut 
I  despair  not  of  his  deliverance  from  danger.  The  Great 
Spirit  preserved  him  once,  when  in  as  much  peril  as  now, 
and  he  is  as  mighty  to  save  as  ever/' 

"My  daughter,  I  again  ask  you  to  be  of  good  cheer — I 
must  now  leave  you.  I  go  to  discover  where  they  have 
takeji  him  for  whom  you  grieve.  Farewell.'' 

"Farewell  I"  she  replied.  "And  oh,  may  the  God  of  all 
things  grant  success  to  yo  your  exertions." 

Maria's  mind  was  greatly  quieted  by  the  encouragement 
to  hope  which  she  deiived  from  this  interview;  and  during 
the  remainder  of  the  evening,  she  appeared  tranquil,  and 
joined  the  rest  of  the  family  in  their  conversation  on  the 
disasters  of  the  day. 

When  retired  to  rest,  however,  her  disquietude  returned, 
She  was  long  wakeful  and  restless  ;  and  when  at  length  sin 
fell  into  a  slumber,  it  was  to  experience  the  horrors  of  ;< 
frightful  dream.  She  thought  she  was  wandering  alone 
along  the  bank  of  Turtle  Creek,  meditating  upon  the  vir 
tues,  the  tenderness,  and  the  misfortunes  of  Charles,  whei. 
she  suddenly  heard  the  noise  of  a  mighty  rush  of  waters 
she  cast  her  eyes  up  the  stream,  and  perceived  a  terrible 
and  overwhelming  ilood  rolling  down  the  valley,  and  sweep 
ing  everything  before  it  with  great  violence  towards  the 
place  where  she  stood.  She  instinctively  attempted  to  ily 
out  of  its  course,  but  was  unable — she  seemed  spell-bound 
to  the  spot,  until  the  waters  came  upon  her,  and  were  ra 
pidly  carrying  her  on  their  surface  towards  the  river,  whei 
a  terrific,  monstrous-looking  animal,  half  man  and  half  bear 
rushed  headlong  from  the  eastern  heights,  into  the  flood, 
and  swimming  towards  her,  seized  her  in  his  mouth,  am 
making  his  way  with  her  to  dry  land,  in  a  fewr  minutes  do 
posited  her  in  a  chamber  in  Fort  Du  Quesne.  It  then  ad- 
ressed  her  in  the  human  voice  : 


THE       WILDERNESS.  143 

••  Look  out  of  that  casement,  and  behold  a  feast  which 
;rladdens  my  eyes,"  said  the  monster.  "  I  must  nway  to 
•.Mijoy  it."  She  looked  out,  and  behold  her  lover,  Charles 
Adderly,  bound  hand  and  foot,  with  chains,  and  seated  on  a 
:ii'.;h  pile  of  wood,  to  which  a  number  of  savages  won;  set 
ting  lire  in  several  place.--,  by  the  direction  of  the  monster. 
'['!ic  next  moment,  the  ilames  seemed  suddenly  to  ascend  in 
mhjhtv  volumes  round  her  lover.  She  gave  a  scream,  and 
awoke  in  dreadful  agony . 

Mrs.  Killbreath,  whom  the  scream  had  alarmed,  hastened 
into  her  room  to  inquire  what  was  the  matter. 

'•Oil,  mv  dear  sister!''  cried  Maria  all  trembling,  "I 
have  been  terriblv  frightened.  !-o  no)  leave  me!  I  bejr 
thec  do  not  leave  me  till  the  monim;i.  1  have  had  :i  dread 
ful  dream — '' 

•'  Be  composed.  ?vlaria  !"  said  her  sister.  '-This  is  owing 
;o  yesterd  •  ".-•  ai-irai  !  You  should  not  lay  these  things  so 
iiiueh  to  heart,  iiut  I  M'lll  just,  inform  my  husband,  who 
is  afraid  you  have  taken  sick,  that  the  noise  was  but  the  .ef 
fect  of  a  dream,  and  shall  then  return  and  stay  with  you  till 
the  morninsr."' 

.Nancy  did  so.  but  Maria  slept  no  more  that  nielli;  for 
she  lea  red  to  experience  such  another  vision.  The  pres 
ence  of  her  sister,  however,  and  the  exertions  of  her  own 
reason,  enabled  her  bv  the  time  the  day  dawned,  to  become 
•.nice  more  considerably  soothed  and  tranquilized  in  her 
feelinofs. 


25* 


144  THE    WILDERNESS, 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

f'urse  on  his  perjured  art.  dissembling  smooth  ! 

\  re  honor,  virtue,  eonsi-ienee  nil  exiled  I 
Is  there  no  pity,  no  relentinsr  ruth, 

Po'ii's  i<>  the  parents:  fondling  o'er  their  child, 
Then  paints  the  ruin'd  maid,  and  their  distraction  wild  ? 

BURNS. 

Tin;  charms  of  Maria,  had  made  loo  deep  an  impression 
upon  the  mind  of  the  o-overnnr  of  Fort  I)u  Quesne  to  permit 
him  to  delay  lon<_r  the  rfperiti'iri  of  his  visit  to  Frazier's. 
His  reflections  upon  her  had  i'p'  him  awake  alms). 


•  >w  in  the  name  of  heaven,"  thoutrht  IIP.  have  1  been 
so  lono;  ignorant  oi  siifli  a  lovolv  crratnrr  vosidinsr  PO  near 
me  !  SMC!I  a  jewel  ;n  Pii'-h  a  V/ilcicniPf?  !  But,  [  am  a 
fortunate  mini  to  have  discovered  her  a!  hist.  I  will  make 
her  JMV  wife,  for  it  would  be  worse  than  villainy  (o  pollute 
so  much  purity,  no;1  do  ',  ."ippose  ii  would  be  so  easy  :i 
mailer,  fnr  she  appears  ns  mo-.U-^r  a.s  Fvie  is  beautiful.  J5y 
heavens,  1  will  serious!-.-  oiler  hrr  my  hand.  She  surely 
cnnnot  refuse  to  become  misrress  of  l-'ort  ]);i  (->uesne  :  and 
I  shall  be  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  such  a  treasure  !  I 
wish  the  mornin.i  was  come,  for  T  will  not  be  content  till 
I  know  her  mind,  and  till  I  have  made  her  rnv  own  pro- 
pert  v." 

In  the  morning;  he,  accordingly.  -^  :m  early  hour,  set.  off 
for  Frazier's.  Maria  ha.d  walked  oui  upon  the  bank  i^f 
Turtle  Creek,  with  the  expectation  of  deriving  some  assist 
ance  from  the,  tranquillity  and  beauty  of  the  scene,  in  sooth 
ing  the  sorrow  that  lay  so  heavy  at  her  heart.  He  perceiv 
ed  her  before  he  came  to  the  house,  and  tvinp;  his  horse  to 
a  tree,  he  approached  her  on  foot  ere  she  was  aware. 

He  bowed  politely  to  her,  and  smiling  pleasantly,  ad- 
dresspd  her  : 


THU     WILDEKXKS*.  145 

"  Miss  Frazier,  I  am  really  happy  to  meet  you  here  all 
rdone,  in  this  charming  place.  I  hope  you  have  recovered 
from  your  yesterday's  {'right.  I  could  not  he  easy,  I  as 
sure  you,  without  coming  to  see  whether  you  had  thrown 
it  off." 

••  You  are  very  kind,  sir."  said  she;  '-hut  I  presume  you 
had  more  important  business  to  brine:  you  here  at  so  early 
an  hour,  than  merely  to  inquire  after  the  stat;'  oi'  a  stranger's 
mind."  , 

"  T'pou  my  honor,  Miss  Fraxier,  no  other  business  in  the 
world  than  just  to  sec,  and  to  converse  with  you,  brought 
in:  from  Fort  Du  Quesne  this  morning.  Ah!  believe  me, 
mv  charmino-  oirl.  1  think  no  business  in  the  world  half  so 
sweet,  or  so  imporiant  as  enjovinir  your  society.  I  wish  to 
Cod  1  had  onlv  known  yon  sooner:  \\  e  should  by  this  time 
have  understood  each  other  belter." 

••  i:  mio'hl  readily  enough  have  been  so,"  she  replied, 
looking  at  him  with  an  expression  of  surprise;  "for  I  pro 
test,  sir,  that  i  cannot  understand  you  now." 

"  Ah !  my  dear  Miss  Frazier,  you  may  say  so,  but  1  can 
not  believe  you — your  pretty  tell-tale  eyes  say  that  you 
understand  well  the  nature  of  my  visit,  liow  can  you  mis 
take  it  .'  Hut  I  will  make  it  plainer  to  you.  Ever  since 
.'  lirsi  saw  you,  I  have  been  so  fascinated,  1  could  think  of 
nothing  else,  i  f.'el  as  thouirli  then;  was  nothing  else  worth 
thinking  of.  Even  the  hurry  of  the  battle  yesterday  could 
not  drhe  you  for  a  moment  from  my  thoughts,  and  as  soon 
as  die  enemy  was  driven  od',  I  hastened  to  see  you.  Ah! 
I  feel  as  if  I  could  live  by  looking  upon  you." 

'•  You  would  derive  very  little  benefit  from  such  diet." 
she  answered,  scarcely  thinking  it  worth  while  to  reply  se 
riously  to  such  language  ;  ''  and  I  am  afraid  that  before  long 
you  should  find  it  very  little  to  your  satisfaction," 

".\ay,  Miss  Frazier,"  said  he  in  a  fond  tone,  "  by  my 
soul,  those  pretty  cheeks,  those  ruby  lips,  those  sparkling 
eyes — ah  :  you  may  banter  me,  anil  laugh  at  me  if  you 
choose,  but,  by  heavens,  i  never  saw  anything  in  the  world 
I  loved  half  so  much  to  ga/.e  upon." 

"Monsieur  De  Villiers,"  said  she,  "my  heart  is  too 
much  laden  \vitb  sorrow  ni  present,  to  lauyh  at  :mvlhin<>. 


110  THE    \VILDKRXE.S3, 

otherwise,  I  believe,  that  such  unmeaning,  such  frivolous, 
and  pardon  me.  if  I  sav,  such  ridiculous  nonsense,  would 
provoke  my  mirih.  It  L-,  sir,  equally  lirnoalh  your  dignity, 
and  unsuited  to  the.  present  state  of  niv  feelings." 

"Ah.  my  pretty  banterer  !"  returned  the  Frenchman,  not 
in  the  least  disconcerted.  "  then  \  shall  speak  seriously  to 
you.  Your  charms  have  warmed  my  heart  to  a  sincere. 
uncontrollable  passion.  1  love  you — by  heavens  !  I  adore 
you  !  Ah!  1  have  nevi  r  seen  a  woman  1  could  love  as  1 
do  you !" 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  this  language  seems  as  mad  as  what 
you  just  now  uttered  was  foolish.  Both,  T  must  say.  arc 
unworthy  of  you.  and  disagreeable  to  me." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  !;°  returned.  "  Can  it  be  unwor 
thy  of  me  to' love  so  much  excellence!  No,  by  all  that  is 
sacred,  I  swear,  lhat  if  1  were  the  grand  monarch  himself,  1 
should  think  you  worthy  to  r-harf  my  throne.  I  love  you. 
Miss  Frazier,  with  an  honorable  passion,  at  which  the  most 
sainted  purity  could  not  take  offence.  My  hand  is  free,  my 
fortune  respectable,  mv  heart  devoted  to  you.  I  offer  you 
them  all,  and  shall  i'eel  myself  the  happiest  of  mortals  if  you 
accept  of  them.'' 

"  Sir."  she  answered,  '*  I  thank  you  for  being  so  explicit 
and  candid  with  me.  1  v:iil  consider  \  on  to  be  serious  in 
these  liberal  offers,  and  shall  be  explicit,  candid  and  serious 
in  reply  to  them.  Then  hear  my  reply,  and  set  it  down  on 
the  tablets  of  your  memory,  as  one  which  neither  your 
power,  nor  even  that  of  your  grand  monarch  himself,  should 
he  lend  you  his  aid,  will  ever  induce  me  to  alter — I  utterly 
and  decisively  reject  them." 

"You  do!"  said  he.  beginning  io  feel  that  he  did  nor 
stand  on  such  eligible  ground  with  her  as  he  had  supposed. 
"  Then  it  exactly  comes  to  this  i«sue,  my  fair  tempter,  that 
as  I  feel  I  cannot  live  without  you,  you  must  become  mine 
in  spite  of  yourself.  But  I  wish  for  your  voluntary  con 
sent ;  for.  upon  my  honor.  I  should  be  very  loth  to  compel 
you." 

"Sir,"  she  replied,  -;  we  may  as  well  drop  the  conversa 
tion.  My  voluntary  assent  to  vour  proposals  you  can  never 
have.  In  fiip  attempt  t<>  pronounce  it.  mv  toiunif  would 


THE    WILDERNKSS.  14? 

wither  in  my  mouth.  With  respect  to  compelling  me,  you 
cannot  be  so  irrationally  wicked.  You  cannot  he  so  devoid 
of  good  sense  as  to  expect  that  compulsion  will  ever  pro 
duce  all'ection  ;  nay,  you  must  know  that  the  excitement  of 
absolute  abhorrence  would,  it  is  more  than  probable,  lie.  its 
consequence." 

-  Then  tell  me,  fair  one.  what  I  am  to  do  !"'  asked  I)e 
Villiers,  checkinir  a  strong  tendency  which  he  felt  towards 
irritation.  '•  Tell  me  how  1  shall  obtain  thee,  thou  ensnaroi 
(if  my  senses!  for  obtain  th^e  I  must.  Without,  ihee.  my 
life  M  ill  he  nothing — worse  than  nothing — it  \vili  be  a  bur 
then  1  will  not  be  able  to  hear.  I/ut.  by  all  my  hopes  of 

salvation,  thou   shall  be  mine,  if  I  should but  no."'    said 

he.  suddenly  chan<jing  his  manner,  "  I  will  not  sav  it,  I  will 
not  resolve  it.  for  I  cannot  resolve  upon  anything  oil'ensive 
10  the;1.  Oli!  consent  to  my  proposals,  become  my  wife. 
Mid  live  happilv  \vil!i  a  man  who  adores,  who  shall  forever 
;  lore  thee." 

"Sir. "said  she,  '•  yon  have  my  answer  already.  It  is 
final,  unalterable,  and  need  not  he  repealed."  "  Then,''  said 
lie,  ll  proud  <_rirl  '.  either  you  or  1,  or  perhaps  both  of  us,  are 
i!  mined  to  wretchedness.  Permit  me,  at  least,  to  kiss  your 
hand  lie-fore  yon  drive  me  oil'  in  despair." 

Here  he  violently  sei/ed  her  hand,  and  pressed  it  forcibly 
to  his  lips.  Her  soul  iiiied  with  indignation  and  horror  at 
his  rudeness:  but  fearing  to  prolong  his  stay  by  making'  any 
observation  eonccrninjr  i>,  she  meekly  turned  from  him  when 
he  loosened  his  hold,  and  without  makinir  anv  reply  to  his 
farewell,  hastened  back  to  the  house  in  jjreat  perplexity  and 
alarm.  Having  taken  his  resolution  as  to  the  measures  he 
should  adopt,  he  did  not  follow  her,  but  the  more  to  lull 
.-my  suspicion  of  his  design,  he  rode  up  the  glen  of  Turtle 
('reek,  and  returned  hastily  to  J)u  Quesne,  by  a  direction  dif 
ferent  from  the  one  he  came. 

She  hesitated  when  she  reached  home,  whether  she  should 
communicate  the  incident  to  her  iiiends.  She  did  not  wish 
to  excite  in  their  minds  any  unnecessary  uneasiness;  and 
she  entertained  hopes  that  as  the  governor  had  received  so 
iWided  a  refusal,  he  minht  see  the  futility  of  his  pursuit,  and 
•  'istiirb  her  no  more,  T'  i--  true,  he  threw  out  some 


148  TUi:     WILDERNESS. 

sions  indicative  of  a  resolution  to  persevere  in  his  designs 
upon  her.  But  these  expressions  might  only  be  the  common 
place  protestations  of  a  man  wishing  to  make  an  impression 
on  a  woman  whom  he  found  difficult  to  persuade  ;  or,  they 
might  only  he  the  sudden  and  unreflecting  effusions  of  the 
moment.  At  any  rate,  how  could  her  friends,  few  and  pow 
erless  as  they  were,  resist  the  Governor  of  Fort  T)u  Quesne, 
if  he  should  think  proper  to  follow  ihe  import  of  his  insin 
uations.'  They  might,  indeed,  contribute  to  her  conceal 
ment,  until  he  shoiud  either  forget  her,  or  be  removed  from 
his  post.  Hut  this  might  bring  down  his  vengeance  upon 
them  ;  and  even  should  her  concealment  be  necessary,  by 
the  aid  of  Tonnalcuka  alone,  could  it  be  effectually  accom 
plished.  To  lay  the  case  before  him,  and  be  regulated  by 
his  advice,  she  believed  would,  upon  the  whole,  be  her  wisest 
cours"  :  and  she  concluded  on  no!,  disturbing  the  serenity  of 
her  friemN  by  accquainting  them  wiih  the  incident,  until  she 
consulted  him  to  whom  she  had  always  been  accustomed  to 
look  up  for  advice  in  every  perplexity. 

As  to  De  Villiers  there  was  nothing  further  from  his  inten 
tion  than  to  relinquish  his  pursuit  after  her.  He  .saw  clear 
ly  that  nothing  wa>  to  be.  obtained  from  her  by  mere  solicita 
tion  ;  and  he  was  determined  not  to  expend  time  and  labor 
in  vain.  His  passion  for  her  was  too  violent  to  brook  such 
a  delay.  He  therefore  resolved  to  have  recourse  to  active 
and  prompt,  measures;  and  he  was  only  sorry  that  he  had 
happened,  while  conversing  with  her,  to  throw  out  hints 
that  might  put  her  on  lier  guard  against  the  attempt  he  med 
itated.  But  'his  consideration  formed  a  motive,  additional 
to  the  urgency  of  his  passion,  to  have  his  design  immediate 
ly  executed,  so  that  she  might  not  have  time  to  adopt  any 
mode  of  frustrating  it- 
He  therefore,  as  soon  as  he  returned  to  the  garrison,  or 
dered  a  Lieutenant  R-uittell,  a  man  whom  he  knew  to  be  fit 
for  his  purpose,  into  his  presence. 

"  Well,  Ranttell!''  said  he. 

"Your  servant,  sir,"  wiih  -i  low  bow,  was  the  reply. 

"  I  want  you  on  a  special  service,  Lieutenant,  which  I  ex 
pect  you  will  manage  exactly  as  you  shall  be  directed." 

"  To  a  fraction,  if  possible." 

••  There  is  a  !r>dv  iu  the  rasp,    Ranttell," 


THE    WILDERNESS.  149 

•'  A  pleasant  affair,  sir,  next  to  shooting  the  English,  and 
a  damned  sight  better  than  burning  them,  as  these  devils  of 

Indians  will  have  us  to  do  !" 

'•  Thai's  my  business,  not  yours,"  observed  the  Governor. 

"Your  pleasure,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"  \  captain's  commission,  Ranttell,"  said  the  Governor, 
"  will  be  yours,  my  brave  fellow,  the  moment  the  lady  is 
brought  into  the  fort." 

"  Smio'«  the  word,"  replied  the  'lieutenant,  "  a  neat  job, 
bv  St.  Dennis  !  Where  is  the  dove's  nest.  Monsieur  lie 
Governor  :"' 

'•  \?  Turtle  (/reek,  a  daughter  of  the  old  Irishman,"  re 
plied  the  Governor. 

"Whot!  not  Dr.  Kilihreath's  wife,  I  hope."  cried  Rant- 
'"11  :  "but  ii"  matier."  be  added,  winking  significantly  at  the 
•  iuViTiior.  ••  sweet's  the  eye  upon  a  prettv  grin,  whether  mar 
ried  or  single." 

-  You  mistake,"  said  the  Governor,  affecting  some  offence 
at  tin-  msinuatio'i  :  "do  you  think  me  such  a  blackguard  as 
to  seduce  another  man's  wife? — no — no,  Lieutenant,  you 
Mislake  ;!i"  mailer." 

'•  !  }}<>?  pardon.'"  returned  the  Lieutenant,  "but  I  am  glad 
'he  Doctor  ;s  out  of  the  scrane  at  any  rate,  for  he  cured  me 
"f  ';!ech"'ic  last  spring,  when  our  own  bungling  surgeon 
•oulii  scarce  icil  what  ailed  me.  Hut  I  suppose  it  is  the 
(iretiy  rosy-lipped,  sweet  countenanced  lady,  the  Doctor's 
i>ti  i'-in-huv,  that  1  sa\v  ia-M  winter  when  out  in  that  <iuarter 
"ii  a  humiii'T  Irin.  B\"  llii'  Lori!,  she's  a  dainty.  rloi!  I 
been  ilte  Doctor,  1  know  which  of  the  two  shirrs  I  should 
have  chosen  tor  a  h(rip-ma!:\" 

'•  Rut  more  persons  than  one,  have  a  choice,  you  know," 
observed  the  Governor,  "  where  two  are  concerned." 

"  Perfect  lo«ric,  your  honor,"  replied  Ranitell." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  De  Villiers,  "  you  know  the  lady — I 
love  her  to  distraction — I  wish  to  marry  her — she's  an  an- 
:fel.  and  I  would  not  for  the  world  pollute  her.  I  told  her 
so,  but  she  is  rather  shy  about  the  matter.  1  want  you  to 
!)rinir  her  here,  as  I  think  I., could  here  persuade  her  with 
more  effect,  than  in  the  woods  under  her  fathers's  wing  yon 
der.  You  neither  need  ask  her  consent,  nor  that  of  any  of 


150  THE    WILDERNESS. 

her  friends.  Take  twenty  smart  fellows  with  you,  enter  the 
house  holdly,  nml  bring  her  off  without  question.  Bnf,  take 
care,  Ranttell  !  offer  her  no  insult,  as  you  would  avoid  get 
ting  a  hall  through  your  brains.  Remember,  she  i«  to  he 
mv  wife.'' 

"  It  shall  he  all  done  as  fairly  ?.nd  politely,  as  you  would 
ask  her  to  dar.ee  a  rifradoon,"  replied  the  Lieutenant.  "  P>ul 
\viien  shall  we  set  out,  .Monsieur  he  Governor?" 

l)e  Villiers  pulied  out,  a  watch,  "  by  my  faith,  but  I  made 
good  speed  this  morning,"  said  he.  "It  is  not  twelve  yet. 
In  hnlf  :;u  liour,  R-mtte!!,  he  off.  Give  w'n  man  a  dose  ot 
rum  before  you  start,  and  another  when  you  rome  in  sight 
of  your  destination,  and  1  shall  expect  you  back  by  sun 
down.  (•  !  te  to  the  ];>,;v,  nrd  civil  to 
the  IV 

'•  I'M!  manage  it  a?  neat  as  a  n^wlv  made  plume  in  a  gren 
adier's  cap,"  .'-aid  the  lieutenant,  bow.iig  sf--cral  fpm's  a!- 
mos!  to  the  ground  as  he  withdrew. 

It  was  heiweeu  three  and  I'jnr  oY'o.-k  in  the  afternoon, 
when  \rehy  rYazier,  who  had  been  in  the  woods  at  some 
distance  to  the  westward  of  the  house,  came  in  hastily, 
with  intellio-ei.,---  party  of  French  soldiers  were  m 

sight.      Maria,  who  w:;s  in  her  ov/!i  apartment,  for  she  had 
sea  reel  v  stirred  icontre  wi;h  l)e  \  il- 

liers.  diti  n  'he  family 

did  not   think    •  v  eommunicating  it. 

They  ran  to  tlie  door,  rather  from  an  impulse  of  curiosity 
than  alarm:  and  unconscious  that  anv  of  themselves  were 
to  be  the  objects  of  his  violence,  they  met  Rantteli  rather 
cordially  than  otherwise,  as,  orderinrr  the  body  of  his  men 
to  keep  at  a  distance,  unless  called  forward,  he.  with  only 
three  soldiers,  advanced  to  the  house.  Paddr  and  Doctor 
Killbreath,  had  gone  in  the  morning  on  a  hunting  excursion, 
and  were  not  expected  back  till  night.  Gilbert  and  Archy, 
therefore,  were  the  onlv  male  part  of  the  family  present; 
and  for  any  opposition  lie  might  meet  with  from  these. 
Lieutenant  Ranttell  eared  hut  little.  As  neither  Gilbert  nor 
Nelly  could  speak  French.  Mrs.  Killbreath  had  to  return 
his  salutation  and  answer  his  interrogations. 

"Good   dav  !    niv  friend    Frnzier!      Mv   best    wishes    for 


THE    WILDERNI  iii  J 

your  family,''  was  tue  iirst  salutation,  winch  was  accom 
panied  with  :i  ceremonious  how. 

"  YVe  thank  you,"  replied  Nancy,  "but  as  my  lather  doe,-; 
r-n\  speak  French,  you  \\ili  excuse  it  is  silence," 

"With  ail  my  heart,  Airs.  Killhreath.  But  pray,  my 
sxveet  madam,  where  are  ail  the  rest  of  your  people  I  I 
hope  our  lighting  here  yesterday,  has  not  frightened  them 


My  brother  Paddy,  and  my  husband  the  doctor,  are  out 
iir  since  the  morning,  and  I  believe  we  are  all  present 
except  them  and  my  sister,  who  is  rather  indisposed  since 
the  alarm  she  received  duriiiff  yesterday's  battle,"' 

"  You  have  stood  that,  all'air  pretty  well,  i  perceive,  .Mr*. 
Killhreath, "  said  the  lieutenant:  "See  how  hardy  people 
become  when  they  are  married.  But  is  your  sister  so  sick 
as  to  permit  no  visiter,  my  fair  friend;  I  have  a  message 
I  wisli  to  deliver  to  her." 

"A  message  for  Maria!"  exclaimed  Nancy.  "Pray, 
sir,  who  can  it  be  from/" 

"  From  a  most  true  and  hearty  friend  she  has  at  the 
garrison,"  replied  the  oliicer, 

••Inform  me  of  it,  and  1  shall  communicate  it  to  her.  and 
inmedialely  let  you  know  her  answer." 

"1  am  instructed  only  to  communicate  it  to  herself,"  was 
;he  reply. 

"I  shall  tell  her  so."  said  Nancy,  and  she  without  more 
consideration,  hastened  to  Maria'a  apartment.  But  to  her 
astonishment,  the  o Ulcer  was  there  almost  as  soon  a:-. 
herself. 

'•Kxcuse  me,  ladies!"  said  lie,  bowinir  and  smiling  ver\ 
politely  to  Maria;  "excuse  me  for  this  unmannerly  intru 
sion.  But  1  must  plead  the  necessity  I  am  under  of  obey- 
.n IT  my  commander.  My  dear  madam,"  said  he,  addressing 
Maria  exclusively,  '•  1  have  to  inform  vou  of  (Governor  l)e 
\  illiers's  request  that  you  will  honor  him  with  vour  com- 
pany,  this  evenini:,  at  Fort  i)u  Qiiesne.  I  have  been  or 
dered  out  wilh  a  party  oi* soldiers  to  escort  you  there." 

"Alas!  alas!"  exclaimed  Maria,  in  violent  agitation, 
without  making  anv  direct  repl\-  to  Kanttell:  "[  sec^  1  am 
undone — Oh!  Nancv,  .\ancv,  they  are  tr°ing  to  take  me 


/33  THE     WILDEKXE3S. 

trom  you!  I  might  have  known  it— alas!  I  might  have 
concealed  myself,  hut.  I  could  not  think  he  would  have  per 
petrated  such  instantaneous  violence.  Oh.  my  God.  pre 
serve  me  !"' 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  lieutenant  Ranttell  ?" 
asked  Nancy  ;  "what  do  you  want  with  m  v  sister .'  She 
cannot,  have  done  anvthiug  either  to  injure  or  offend  the 
Governor." 

".Nor  does  the  Governor,  my  sweet,  madam,  wish.  01 
intend  to  do  any  thin<r  either  to  injure  or  offend  her.  IT  is 
pure  love,  Mrs.  Killbreath,  that  is  at  the  bottom  of  this 
affair.  But,  my  fair  lady."  said  he  to  Maria,  "I  am  or 
dered  to  show  you  all  possible  politeness,  and  have  ahorse, 
us  tine  an  ambler  as  ever  paced  the  sod.  ready  and  com 
fortably  caparisoned  to  carry  you  to  the  fort.  Pray,  nmv 
will  you  permit  me  to  help  you  on  him  .'" 

"Ah,  sir.  have  mercy!''  exclaimed  Maria,  for  she  shud 
dered  at  tiie  idea  of  beinof  in  the  power  of  De  Villiers. 
"Oh!  I  beseech  you,  for  the,  love  of  heaven,  do  not  assist 
t.o  plunge  nie  into  ruin  !  Heaven  will  bless  you  if  you  let 
me  escape." 

"I  am  but  a  soldier,  madam,  and  must  obey  orders,  you 
know." 

"And  oh,  sir,  would  you  carry  me — me,  who  never 
harmed  you — to  misery,  to  destruction!'' 

"There  is  no  danger",  madam,  of  either,  I  assure  you." 
said  the  officer,  trying  to  soothe  her:  "so  long  as  we  have 
a  j£im  in  the  fort,  and  a  soldier  to  fire  it,  not  a  soul  on  earth 
shall  harm  a  hair  of  your  head.  But  we  must  b?  off,  ma 
dam,  and  please  let  us  go  in  good  humor  together;  for, 
confound  me.  if  I  like  to  be  at  variance  with  a  lady." 

By  this  time.  Gilbert,  hearing  something  of  an  altercation 
between  the  Frenchman  and  his  daughter,  advanced  into 
the  room. 

"  "U  hat's  wrang.  Maria,  my  bairn?"  said  he;  "I  hope 
the  officer  wants  naething  uncivil  wi'  you'" 

"Ah  father,  my  dear  father!"  she  replied,  "I  am  undone!" 

"  Sir,"  said  the  officer,  who  perceived  that  Gilbert  wan 
displeased,  "there  is  no  use  in  fretting  about  the  matter. 
Monsieur  De  Villiers  has  taken  a  fancy  to  your  daughter 


THE     WILDERNESS.  153 

Hi  has  ordered  me  to  carry  her  to  the  fort.  He  will,  1 
•as- arc  you,  ofi'er  her  no  harm.  On  the  contrary,  he  wishes 
10  make  her  his  wife,  and  will  treat  her  as  tenderly  as  the 
pu  :>il  of  his  eye  !" 

••  \Vhai  says  hi1."'  asked  Gilbert,  who  did  not  understand 
the  lano-uaofe  addressed  to  him. 

Xati'-v  brielly  explained  its  import. 

••Wants  my  doe-liter  into  the  fort  amano  soldiers !"  ex 
claimed  he.  "an'  withoot  her  consent,  ton!  Get  oot  o'  my 
hoose  lit!--  ])recious  moment,  ye  rascal,  to  come  here  on 
sit'-h  an  errand,  or  by  the  Great  God — ma  v  he  forgive  me 
foi  shell  an  oath! — I'll  turn  ye  oot  by  the  shoothcrs." 

Tii"  lieutenant  understood  Gilbert  as  little  as  Gilbert 
understood  him:  but  he  perceived  him  to  be  enraged,  and 
observed — 

••My  fi  iends.  all  this  is  to  no  purpose.  There  are  twenty 
brave  leliows  without  yonder  who  will  enforce  my  com 
mands.''  "So,  my  sweet  madam,"  said  he,  making  a  gra- 
ei"iis  bow  to  the  half  distracted  Maria,  and  catching  her  by 
tin  ;inn.  "von  had  as  rrood  come  alon<j  without  giving  us 
rne.rc  trouble,  or  permitting  this  old  gentleman  to  g^t  iuio  --\ 
scrape.  " 

••  A  his  !  "  said  Maria,  "since  it  is  so.  ihen  God  alone  c.m 
piotivt  me" — so  saying,  she  fell  on  her  knees — "Oh  God! 
ol<  God:  "crieel  she.  in  Kii.qli:-!;  ;  "if  there  is  deliverance 
for  me  from  tin-  calamity,  vouchsafe  to  send  it  ere  I  become 
w  -etched  :  ii  not,  oh  leach  me  to  submit  to  thy  will  !  " 

Merc  GilScii  could  endure  no  longer:  his  ra^e  entirely 
overpowered  his  reason,  ami  ninninjr  into  an  adjacent  room, 
hi  ser/ed  upon  an  axe  that  happened  to  he  there. 

••I'll  cleave  you  to  the  year'h  this  moment,"  cried  he  to 
R  mtell.  "il'yo  (ret  not  oot.  an'  no  vex  my  bairn  in  this  <iate 

"  and  lie  actually  wielded  a  blow  which  would  have 

I)'  ''ii  I -i!;d  to  the  lieutenant,  had  not  one  ol  the  sohiteis  who 
n'!  ,v:'i  tlii-  house  with  him,  cauuiit  the  axe  ere  il  descend- 
ei  .  and  altem[)ted  to  wies'  ii  out  ol' his  grasp.  Gdbert  how- 
e\  "r,  ah  hoiiirh  advanced  in  Lie,  was  still  a  strong  man,  and  in 
a  -nom  -M!  overturned  the  soldier.  i'»ut  another  of  the  sol- 
di'T.s  sci/od  upon  the  axe,  and  had  it.  just  extricated  from 
(i.Iberi's  hold,  when  Arc-by  Frazicr  hearing  the  scrlfl*:.  dart- 


154  THE    WILDERNESS. 

ed  forward  upon  him  and  with  a  kick  upon  the  stomach  ove<" 
turned  him  upon  his  companion.    Ranteli,  himseli'now  closed 
wilh  Archy,   and  the  third  soldier  bavin?  culled  forward  t!  e 
remainder  oi   the  troops,  hastened   to  assist  his   commander, 
and  Archy  was  soon  overpowered. 

.H;:r,tell,  ;;s  soon  as  the  troops  cume  forward,  ordered  a 
sergeant's  guard  to  enter  the  house,  and  Gilbert  and  his  SMI 
were  instantly  tied,  hands  and  feet  together  with  rope?. 

"Now,  my  fair  maiden, ''  said  he,  (running  to  Maria,  who 
had  just  recovered  from  a  swoon,  for  she  thought  her  father 
w-is  killed.)  "the  day  is  our  own — let  us  be  eoin<r.  i  ;vn 
sorry  for  the  scuille,  but  it  was  the  curst  hot-headedness  ni' 
that  foolish  old  man  that  occasioned  it.  I  wished  the  thii  2 
1o  be  done  in  peace.  Mrs.  Killbreath  here  can  loosen  the-e 
ropes  as  soon  as  we  are  tjone. —  But  take  care,  Mrs.  .Doctor, 
and  this  old  dame  bete,"  said  he,  looking  at  jNelly,  whom 
the  fright  had  thrown  into  an  hysterical  fit,  from  which  she 
was  just  recovering;  "1  wish  her  also  not  to  allow  the  old 
dotard,  and  his  hair-brained  son  to  follow  us  ;  or,  by  (loi  ! 
if  they  do,  we  shall  shoot  them  ! '' 

Having  jriven  these  instructions  to  Mrs.  Frazie.  and  1,  T 
daughter,  he  caujjht  Maria  in  his  arms  to  carry  her  oil- 

"Sir,"  said  she,  making  a  great  exertion  to  recover  I  r 
eneray  of  mind;  "since  such  is  my  fate,  keep  your  hands 
oil' me,  and  I  will  submit:  but  before  you  separate  me  p-  r- 
haps  for  ever  from  these  beloved  beings,  mv  father  and  inn  i- 
er.  permit  me  to  embrace  them.'' 

"It  is  all  reasonable,''  replied  Ranttell,  glad  to  see  that  i  if 
application  of  personal  violence  towards  her  would  he  un 
necessary,  "do  so  with  all  my  heart:  only  remember  ]  c'in 
aflbrd  yon  but  little  time  for  the  ceremony.  And  pardon  me 
Mrs.  Doctor''  turning  to  ZSancy.  '•  if  I  interfere  in  womei  '? 
concerns,  but  I  see  there  is  one  thinsr  \ou  are  likely  to  for»<  !. 
The  lady's  stay  in  the  garrison  will,  perhaps,  require  some 
changes  of  raiment. " 

Mrs.  Killbreath  took  the  hint ;  but  first  throwing  her  an  s 
round  Maria's  neck,  she  kissed  her.  while  her  eyes  ov-  r- 
flowed  with  tears 

"Farewell,  my  dearest,  dearest  sister  !"  said  she.  "  Vul 
oh  !  may  (-iod  deliver  you  from  these  men.  " 


1  HE     WILUKRNESJi.  155 

She  then  hastened  to  pack  up  some  clothing-  for  Alarm, 
which  when  done  she  handed  to  the  lieutenant.  While 
\-nicy  was  thus  employed.  .Maria  had  alternately  embraced 
hei  lather  and  her  mother.  !She  was  at  length  separated 
Iron  them,  and  proceeded  so  far  as  the  porch,  when  Nelly 
run  ling  after  her,  again  caught  her  in  her  arms. 

••  Oh  !  my  bairn,  my  lovely  bairn  !  1  canna  let  you  leave 
nit1.  I  will  go  \vi'  you.  Where'er  they  pit  you,  canna  be 
o\\  .e  bad  for  me.  I  will  watch  owre  you,  an'  comfort  ye 
amang  the  soldiers." 

••  .My  mother,  1  know  not  what  to  do,'"  replied  Maria  ; 
••  much  could  1  wish  they  would  permit  you  to  go  with 
tin  .  but  I  I'esr  it  would  break  your  heart  to  witness  my 
misery." 

••Alack!"  returned  Nelly,  "it  will  break  iny  heart  to 
thi'ik  of  my  bairn  being  in  distress,  an'  me  no'  wi'  her  to 
sh,.re  ii,  an'  to  conilort  her." 

••  Pardon  me,  ladies  !"  said  llanltell  :  "  but  we  have  no 
lime  now  to  discuss  matters:  and  as  my  instructions  relau; 
onh  to  one  lady,  1  believe  1  shall  be,  at  present,  so  mode- 
rule  as  not  to  exceed  them.  So,  my  good  mother,  you  had 
tu  ter  walk  within  doors,  and  pacify  old  crack-brain  yonder, 
wiio  will  no  doubt  pronounce  many  a  solid  curse  upon  us 
In  fore  we  reach  J)u  Quesne.  lint,  my  sweet  fair  one  !  yon 
\\i-re  tiie  pri/e  1  wa.-^  sent  to  capture;  be  so  good,  therefore, 
as  to  come  along.  Yon  gallant  steed  impatiently  champs 
his  !>>(,  as  if  he  longed  lor  his  lovely  burthen." 

lie  heie  separated  her  from  the  clinging  arms  of  her  mo 
ther,  who  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  heavenly  («od  !  my  bairn!  my 
b:  im  !  my  lovely,  my  innocent  bairn,  is  lost!"  and  she,  fell 
ll  it  upon  tin?  porch  in  a  state  of  insensibility. 

Maria,  with  a  bursting  heart,  and  a  burning  brain,  was 
anon  raiMid  upon  the  horse  prepared  for  her,  and  the  troops 
v  ith  their  beauteous  pri/e  hastened  to  return  to  Fort  l)n 

(  i1  1 1 1 '  S  1 1  ( ' . 

(iillnTt  and  his  wife  fell  the  calamity  that  had  on  this  da\ 
h  'fallen  them  the  more  acutely,  as  they  had,  t>inco  their  set- 
l  I'UKMit  in  tin;  Wilderness,  experienced  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Their  children  had  grown  up  under  their  eyes,  healthy  and 
prosperous,  and  in  all  their  other  a  Hairs  they  had  enjoyed 


156  THE     WILDERNESS. 

such  a  uniform  course  of  tranquillity  and  success — such  an 
uninterrupted  continuance  ot'  comfort  and  repose,  that  now. 
when  the  storm  of  misfortune  hurst  upon  them  all  at  once, 
and  struck  them  so  severely  in  their  tenderest  afi'ections,  it 
is  not  wonderful  that  they  were  scarcely  able  to  endure  the 
shock. 

Gilbert  and  his  son  were  soon  loosened  by  Mrs.  Kill- 
breath  from  ihcir  bonds  after  the  French  departed  ;  but  the 
folly  of  giving  pursuit  was  too  apparent  lor  them  to  attempt 
it,  and  all  they  could  do  was  to  weep  bitterly  for  their  lost. 
.Maria. 

As  (or  Nelly,  it  was  a  considerable  time  after  her  fall 
upon  the  porch,  before  she  was  restored  to  sensation,  and 
when  that  was  effected,  it  was  fount!  that  her  mind  had  sus 
tained  suc'i  a  shock  as  to  render  her  delirious.  They  laid 
her  in  bed,  for  she  was  in  a  high  lever,  and  Gdbert  had  no 
other  expectation  during  the  sorrowful  evening',  but  that  he 
had  lost  both  his  wife  and  his  daughter  forever. 

As  he  looked  upon  Neiiy  in  her  raving  moments,  rage  and 
vexation  would  sometimes  overpower  him,  and  tie  would 
involuntarily  exclaim — 

"  Heaven's  curse  upon  the  fiends  !  They  hae  ruined  me 
an'  a'  my  comforts  !  But  God  forgte  me,  I  should  curse 
nae  yen.  I  leave  them  to  thy  hands,  oil  Lord  !  Deal  wi' 
them  according  to  thy  own  pleasure;  but  oh!  have  com 
passion  upon  this  afflicted  family.  Protect  my  bairn,  an' 
restore  my  wife  !" 

It  was  iate  in  the  evening  before  .Nelly's  mind  became  so 
much  tranquilized  that  she  began  to  relish  the  consolations 
of  religion,  and  Gilbert  was  sitting  by  her  bedside  reading 
the  following  passage  of  the  version  of  the  4th  Psalm  used 
by  the  Church  of  Scotland  : 

In  thv  o-rrat  indignation. 

0  Lord!   rebuke  TOP  not. 
Nor  mi  hif:  hiv  thy  chast'riing  hand, 

In  thy  displeasure  hot. 
Lord,  I  am  weak,  therefore  on  me 

Have  mercy,  and  me  spare  ; 
Heal  me,  O  Lord,  because  thou  know'st 

My  bones  much  vexed  are — 

wh^n  tin3  prophf  Tonnalenka  entered,  on   his   return   from 


THK     WILJJKRNKSS.  157 

inquiring  after  the  direction  which  had  been  taken  by  the 
savages  who  captured  Charles  Adderly.  He  had  ascertained 
it,  and  was  now  coming  to  report  the  circumstances  to  Ma 
ria,  and  comfort  her  with  the  assurance  that  something  should 
be  immediately  done  to  eiiei-.t  iier  lover's  deliverance. 

The  prophet  was  thunderstruck  when  he  was  informed  of 
Wiiat  had  happened  to  the  family.  He  gave  a  groan,  and 
threw  himself  in  great  agitation  upon  a  bench  beside  a  h  ble 
upon  which  he  laid  his  head,  and  pressing  his  throbbing  tem 
ples  between  his  hands,  remained  in  that  posture  for  about 
fiMeen  minutes,  without  speaking  a  word.  He  then  suddenly 
started  up,  and  hastily  paced  the  room  backwards  and  for 
wards  for  SOUK;  time  in  a  species  of  frenzy,  with  his  eyes 
-swollen  as  if  they  would  burst  from  their  sockets,  but  appa 
rently  too  much  .-Torched  with  ihe  lire  of  grief  to  shed  a 
.singie  tear.  Alter  which  lie  resumed  his  former  por-ture  at 
the  table,  still  silent,  and  seemingly  absorbed  in  intense 
thought,  as  weJi  as  grief.  At  length  throwing  himself  upon 
his  knees,  he  stretched  his  hands,  and  lifted  his  burning  eyes 
towards  heaven,  and  exclaimed — 

••Oh  !  (!reat  Spirit  and  Father  of  ttio  universe,  assist  me 
it!  the  endeavor,  and  grant  success  to  what  thoti  hast  thy.-eii 
suggested.  1  depend  on  thec.  on  thee  alone,  to  protect  that 
Kuilerinir  maiden  and  restore  her  again  to  her  friends." 

lie  then  arose,  and  inquired  for  Paddy  Frazier,  and  when 
(oid  that  Paddy  had  not  been  at  home  since  the  morning,  he 
seemed  very  impatient,  and  again  paced  the  floor  in  great 
agitation. 

In  a  short  time,  however,  Paddy  and  Dr.  Kiiibr^atii  ar 
rived,  and  Tonnaleuka  appeared  at  unce  to  become  much 
tranquilized.  The  consternation  and  rage  of  both  these 
h  inters  of  the  forest,  when  thev  heard  of  their  sister's  mis- 
I'Ttnn'',  need  not  be  described;  they  both  swore  eternal 
h  itred  to  the  French,  lint  Tonnaleuka  did  not  give  Paddy 
ii'iic'h  time  to  vent  forth  the  vehemence  of  his  rage;  he  took 
him  out  of  doors,  where  he  communed  with  him  about  (en 
minutes.  When  ihey  re-entered  the  house.  Paddy  hastily 
provide:!  himself  with  a  small  wooden  liask  full  of  ruin,  and 
some  provision.-,  which  he  deposited  in  a  pouch  at  his  side, 
a'ifl  pitching  his  rifle  on  hi*  shoulder,  set  oft' again  at  full 


158  THE    WILDERNESS. 

speed,  with  as  much  briskness  and  alacrity  as  if  lie  had  just 
arisen  from  his  couch,  after  the  enjoyment  of  a  long  repose. 
The  prophet  then  exhorted  the  family  to  be  of  good  cheer, 
as  he  had  great  hopes  that  all  might  yet  be  well  ;  and  as  he 
understood  from  Mrs.  Killbreath  that  her  father  and  mother 
had  refused  all  kinds  of  nourishment  since  Maria's  capture, 
he  desired  that  supper  should  be  prepared,  of  which,  he  said, 
he  should  himself  stay  to  partake.  After  supper,  he  took 
Dr.  Killbreath  aside  and  requested  him  to  set  oil'  early  in  the 
morning  towards  the  head  waters  of  Chartier's  Creek,  in 
order  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  a  party  of  Caughnewago 
Indians,  who  had  carried  Charles  Adderly  in  that  direction, 
and  to  lose  no  time  in  bringing  him  back  intelligence  of  their 
intentions  concerning  their  prisoner,  as  soon  as  lie  should 
discover  them. 

"  My  son,"  said  he,  "show  this  wampum  to  the  sachem. 
Takshuma,  who  is  their  leader  He  will  protect  you  from 
any  injury,  and  perhaps  give  you  all  the  information  we  re 
quire.  1  should  have  gone  on  this  errand  myself,  but  M,i- 
ria,  the  child  of  my  heart,  is  now  in  distress,  and  I  cannot 
forsake  her. 

"  My  son,  my  inability  u>  attend  to  the  affairs  of  Charles 
Adderly,  may,  at  this  crisis,  be  fatal  to  him,  unless  Takshu 
ma  grants  the  petition  which,  in  my  name,  and  upon  the 
testimony  of  that  sacred  wampum,  I  authorize  you  to  deliver 
to  him.  Tell  him  that  Tonnaleuka,  the  adopted  son  of  the 
deceased  Fallakamsah,  formerly  chief  sachem  of  the  tribe  of 
the  Mingoes,  and  the  prophet  of  Alaneto  for  fifteen  tribes, 
requests  Takshuma,  sachem  of  the  Caughnewagoes,  to  grant 
the  English  prisoner,  Charles  Adderly,  if  the  Caughnewago 
counsellors  should  condemn  him  to  be  burned,  that  which 
no  prophet  of  Muneto  has  ever  been  refused  when  he  asked 
it  for  a  condemned  prisoner,  namely,  seven  days  after  his 
condemnation,  to  make  his  peace  with  Maneto  before  he  be 
given  to  tiie  liames." 

"  If  I  had  this  petition  in  writing,"  observed  the  Doctor, 
with  much  simplicity,  "I  should,  no  doubt,  remember  it  bet 
ter,  and  deliver  it  more  correctly  to  the  sachem." 

"  My  son,  you.  shall  have  it  in  writing  then,"  said  Tonna- 
luuka.  "for  your  own  use.  Only  show  not  the  paper  to  the 


THE     WILDERNESS  159 

sachem,  for  he  will  either  despise  you  for  requiring  such  an 
assistant  to  your  memory,  or  he  may  look  upon  it  as  a  forge 
ry  of  your  own,  for  the  chiefs  and  prophets  of  our  people 
nt-ver  use  such  means  of  communication  with  eacli  other." 

The  Doctor  promised  to  obey  the  prophet's  instructions, 
which,  as  well  as  the  petition,  were  reduced  that  evening 
to  writing,  and  he  set  out  on  his  errand  e^rly  the  ensuing 
morning,. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

And  now  he  pours  his  choice  of  fc.ai, 

In  secret  on  Matilda's  ear; 

"  Consent,  and  all  this  dread  array, 

Like  morning  dream  shall  pass  away; 

Refuse,  and  by  my  duty  prcss'd, 

I  give  the  word — thou  know'st  the  rest." 

SCOTT. 

THE  great  luminary  of  this  nether  world  had  upwards  of 
;iu  hour's  journey  to  perform,  ere  he  could  hide  himself  be 
hind  the  edge  of  the  western  horizon,  from  the  view  of  Hie 
inhabitants  of  Fort  l)u  Quesne,  when  the  lovely  object  of 
lis  Governor's  passion,  was  brought  :ui  unhappy  captive 
v.ilh'm  its  walls. 

When  the  sound   of  the  bugle  announced   the   arrival   of 
K.anttell's  part),  the  Governor,  with  a  feeling  of  some   em 
barrassment,  hastened   to   salute   the  enchanter  of  his   soul, 
whom   he   perceived   to   be  with   them,  and  to  conduct  her 
*  nto  bis  residence.      AVhen   he   held   out    his  hand  to  assist 
her  in  dismounting,  she    for   a   moment,  with   an  instinctive 
hudder,  shrunk  from   his    touch  ;    but  insta'ntly  recollecting 
'hat  there  was   no   possibility  of  then   avoiding  it,  without, 
26 


tiO  J  H  K      \\  ILOK  US  F,a> . 

perhaps,  subjecting  herself  to  greater  rudeness,  she  silently 
accepted  his  assistance,  and  suffered  herself  to  be  led,  an 
uncomplaining  victim,  to  the  lodging  that  had  been  prepared 
for  her. 

This  was  a  tolerably  neat  room  of  moderate  dimensionsr 
on  the  second  floor  of  the  governor's  house,  which  was  sit 
uated  near  that  part  of  the  circumvallation  which  overlooked 
the  Monongahela.  It  was  in  the  northeastern  angle  of  the 
house,  and  had  in  view  from  its  frrtnt  windows,  the  principal 
area,  or  parade  ground,  within  the  stoccade.  Besides  the 
necessary  furniture1  which,  although  not  splendid,  was  com 
modious  and  clean,  it  contained  a  few  books  of  a  romantic 
and  light  species  of  literature,  arranged  on  some  shelves  ad 
joining  the  door  of  a  small  dark  closet,  which  formed  an 
appendage  to  the  apartment. 

"  Miss  Frazier,"  said  De  Villiers  on  handing  her  into  thi- 
room,  "I  am  sorry,  to  my  very  soul  1  am  sorry,  that  yov 
should  have  compelled  me  to  take  this  step.  But  1  felt  that 
I  could  not  live  without  you,  and  I  had  no  alternative.  En 
deavor  to  make  yourself  comfortable  in  this  abode,  such  ;\>> 
it  is,  I  wish  to  God  it  was  a  palace  for  your  sake." 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "comfort  is  now  a  matter  of  no  concern 
to  me,  for  it  is  what  I  feel  I  cannot  enjoy.  Alas  !  to  enter 
a  palace  under  such  circumstances,  would  be  the  same  as  a 
dungeon." 

Here  the  energy  which  had  sustained  her  during  her 
journey,  forsook  her,  for  the  state  in  which  she  had  left  hei 
frignds,  rushed  into  her  remembrance,  and  she  burst  into 
tears." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  father  and  mother,"  said  she,  "what  must 
you  not  feel  at  this  moment !  Heaven  support  you  undei 
this  trial." 

"  Be  pacified,  my  lovely  maiden,"  said  De  Villiers,  in  n 
soothing  manner,  for  he  really  felt  affected  at  her  sorrow. 
"  Your  feelings  are  too  tender.  You  ar%by  far  of  too  timk' 
and  apprehensive  a  disposition.  I  assure  you  that  you  wil: 
suffer  no  evil  here,  and  I  shall  also  take  care  to  remove  air. 
uneasiness  your  friends  may  feel  on  that  account.  The  in 
gency  of  passion,  irresistible  passion,  for  you  alone,  ^on 
strained  me  to  separate  you  from  them.  But.  believe  mr 


THE     WILOKRNKSS.  1  fU 

H  \\as  not  to  make  either  you  or  them  unhappy  ;  and,  upon 
the  honor  of  a  soldier,  I  promise  that  anything  short  of  part 
ing  with  you,  I  shall  subitiit  to,  in  order  to  make  your  resi 
dence  with  me  agreeable.'' 

'•  Alas,  then.  1  need  expect  no  relief  from  misery,"'  she 
ivplied,  "  for  nothing  short  of  a  separation  from  yon,  and 
restoration  to  my  friends,  can  afford  such  relief.  Oh!  re- 
More  me  to  them,  and  I  shall  never  cease  to  bless  you,  I 
shall  never  cease  to  pray  lor  your  happiness  !'' 

'•  U  hat  !"  said  he;  "no,  no — you  know  not  how  1  adore 
^  our  loveliness,  or  you  would  not  expect  me  to  part  with  it 
so  soon.  It  would  be  folly  indeed,  to  throw  that  treasure 
out  of  my  hand,  for  which  the  whole  world  could  not  afford 
me  an  equivalent.  But  the  whole  world,  Miss  Frazier, 
cannot  now  deprive  me  of  you.  That  blessed  consideration 
makes  me  ample  amends  for  your  present  displeasure.  Oh, 
smile  upon  one  who  doats  on  you.  and  be  reconciled  to  yield 
to  the  ardor  of  his  affections,  bv  becoming  his  wife,  and  his 
vv  hole  future  conduct,  he  pledges  his  salvation,  shall  be  reg- 
rlated  so  as  to  make  you  happy." 

bi  Sir,''  said  she,  recovering  her  full  eneriry  of  manner 
and  tone,  "never,  never!  Yon  have  already  had  my  an 
swer  on  that  subject,  and  answer  which  no  earthly  consid 
eration  can  ever  induce  me  to  chanire.  iNo,  my  heart  would 
burst  to  pieces  ere  my  tongue  should  utter  a  promise  to  be 
yours." 

••  Well,  my  sweet  tormentor,  you  would  inflict  a  pang 
into  my  soul,  would  you,  by  such  a  manifestation  of  hatred 
lor  me  ?  But,  bv  heavens  !  you  are  beautiful,  and  so  long 
as  I  can  behold  those  fascinating  features,  1  shall  feel  no 
panics  of  any  kind  !  When  I  shall  feel  sorrow,  I  shall  fly 
IM  you,  and  gaze  upon  you.  The  sight  ol  your  charms  will 
quicken  me  into  joy,  and  to  clasp  them  to  my  enraptured 
bosom,  will  transport  me  into  bliss."  He  paused — but  she 
continued  silent,  shuddering  at  his  vehemence  ;  and  he  soon 
again  continued  : 

"  Maiden  !  you  say  you  will  never  promise  to  be  mine. 
He  it  so.  1  can,  if  1  please,  dispense  witli  that  promise,  and 
}  et  be  happy.  I ''or  know,  my  enchantress,  you  are  at  this 
moment  mine  to  all  intents  and  for  all  purposes,  as  com- 


162  Illii     WILDERNESS. 

pletely  and  absolutely,  as  if  the  priest  had  made  you  so.  It 
is  for  your  own  sake,  my  fair  one,  and  not  for  mine,  that  1 
wish  the  forms  to  be  gone  through.  "What  say  you  ?  "Will 
you  consult  your  own  reputation,  your  own  purity,  and  the 
satisfaction  of  your  friends,  and  pronounce  the  vow  which 
will  make  me  happy  without  making  you  wretched." 

"  Never  !"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  of  lirmness  and  decision, 
"  never.  If  I  am  doomed  to  wretchedness,  no  act  of  my 
own  shall  ever  he,  with  my  knowledge,  accessary  to  it.  If 
I  cannot  control  the  power  of  others  over  me,  I  can  control 
the  meaning  of  the  words  that  I  utter,  and  never  shall  I 
utter  anv  which  will  entitle  you  to  exercise  authority  over 


me 


"Say  you  so,  obstinate,  foolish  girl?"  he  replied,  with 
considerable  irritation.  "  But  your  ohstinacy,  or  if  you 
prefer  the  phrase,  your  firmness  on  this  point,  shall  be  tried. 
By  heavens  !  if  I  did  not  love  you  too  sincerely  to  seize 
your  charms,  and  rifle  your  sweets  without  ceremony,  1 
would  not  delay  my  bliss  one  hour.  But  harsh,  inconsid 
erate  as  you  are,  your  purity  and  satisfaction  of  mind,  are 
worth  something  in  my  estimation  ;  they  are  worth  at  leasi 
a  few  days'  postponement  of  my  happiness.  It  shall  be. 
therefore,  postponed  that  it  may  he  the  sweeter  when  ii 
comes  ;  for,  by  the.  great  God,  I  swear  it  shall  come  with 
your  own  consent,  if  I  should  shake  your  very  soul  to  its 
centre  in  order  to  extort  that  consent  from  you  !  This  \* 
my  determination,  seducing,  obdurate  girl  !  1  shall  now 
leave  you  to  reflect  upon  it.  But  your  lovely  hand  shall 
first  impress  rapture  upon  my  lips." 

So  saying,  he  forcibly  kissed  her  hand,  and  left  the  apart 
ment.  Maria  threw  herself  upon  the  bed,  and  burst  into 
tears.  The  full  sense  of  her  wretched  situation,  and  sail 
more  wretched  prospects,  rushed  violently  upon  her  mind, 
and  she  poured  forth  the  sorrows  of  her  soul  to  her  Maker 
from  whom  alone,  if  there  was  any  deliverance  for  her 
could  she  expect  it.  by  some  miraculous  means  to  proceed 
She  prayed,  fervently  prayed,  that  whatever  might  be  th 
acuteness  of  her  personal  sufferings,  she  should,  at  leas- 
bear  them  without  sinning,  and  that  if  her  distress  shoulc 
occasion  her  destruction,  her  soul  should  return  to  him  froir 


THE     WILDERNESS.  1  63 

\\  horn  it  had  proceeded,  as  undefiled,  and  as  unoffending  as 
s  r  had  received  it. 

This  pious  train  of  thought  had  the  effect  of  greatly  tran- 
qiiili/inir  her  mind,  and  when,  in  about  fifteen  minutes  after 
the  departure  of  J)e  Villier.s.  a  squaw  entered  her  apartment 
with  some  refreshments,  she  prevailed  on  herself  to  partake 
Siio-inly  of  them,  after  which,  committing'  herself  to  the  all- 
powerful  protection  of  the  (-Jod  on  whom  she  relied,  she 
Licked  her  chamber  door,  and  throwing-  her  harrassed  frame 
n<rain  upon  the  couch,  endeavored  to  court  repose. 

But  it  was  lonjr  before  she  obtained  it.  The  misfortunes 
of  C'harles  Adderly,  who  loved  her  so  tenderly,  and  to  whom 
the  whole  affections  of  her  soul  were  engaged,  for  some  time 
("•en pied  and  agitated  her  mind,  so  entirely  and  intensely,  as 
almost  to  obliterate  the  recollection  of  her  own.  The  awful 
late  which  she  1'eared  lie  either  had  sulfered,  or  would  be 
doomed  to  sutler,  from  the  cruelty  of  the  savages,  excited 
her  mind,  as  she  reflected  deeply  upon  it,  to  a  sneeies  of  in- 
f"lerahle  feelinjr,  so  nearly  bordering  upon  despair,  that,  she 
could  have  wished  herself  annihilated  to  tret  rid  of  it.  When 
she  pictured  to  herself  the  horrors  of  his  destruction,  amidst 
t!  e  (lames,  o-ladly.  ufladly  would  she  have  rejoiced  in  the 
]:ossihilitv  of  becoming  herself  a  substitute  to  undergo  the 
•iful  doom  in  his  stead. 

Then,  a«rain,  when  the  terrors  of  her  own  situation  would 
recur  to  her,  the  possibility  of  beinir  condemned  to  the  hor- 
r  hie  embraces  of  a  wretch  whose  \illainly  she  execrated, 
occasioned  her  to  shudder,  a  cold  sweat  broke  upon  her 
frame,  and  she  thought  thai  even  Charles's  worst  fate  must 
!  e  happiness,  compared  with  hers. 

"Oli,  would  to  (Jod!"  she  mentally  exclaimed,  "that 
sooner  than  permit  such  a  catastrophe  to  take  place,  he 
vould  strike  me  dead  with  his  thunder,  or  cause  this  build- 
j  i  IT  to  take  fire  and  consume  me  amidst  the  conflagration." 

.Nature^  at  length  became  wearied  with  the  poignancy  of 
:-orrow,  and  she  sunk  into  a  kind  of  stupor  which  termina- 
t  'd,  at  last,  in  a  slumber,  disturbed  and  troubled,  indeed,  but 
infinitely  more  refreshing  and  invigorating  in  its  effects  than 
.-he  had  any  reason  to  expect. 

She  arose    the    next   morning,  rejoiced  to  find  herself  re- 


164  THE     WILDERNESS. 

stored  to  a  decree  of  resolution  and  fortitude,  of  which,  the 
preceding  evening,  she  had  been  entirely  destitute;  and  she 
now  felt,  as  if  she  could  courageously  meet  her  fate,  let  its 
aspect  be  ever  so  appalling. 

The  squaw  that  had  the  night  before  brought  refreshments 
to  her,  appeared  some  time  after  she  arose,  with  a  request 
from  Hie  Governor  that  she  would  favor  him  with  her  com 
pany  at  breakfast,  which  was  waiting  for  her  in  a  parlor 
below  stairs.  This  invitation  she  declined  on  the  plea  of 
indisposition.  The  squaw  retired,  but  in  a  short  time  re 
turned  to  prepare  breakfast  in  her  apartment,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  was  followed  by  I)e  Villiers  himself,  who  saluted 
her  with  great  politeness,  hoped  her  indisposition  was  not 
of  a  serious  nature,  and  since  she  was  unable  to  afford  him 
the  pleasure  of  her  presence  at  her  breakfast,  below,  he 
would  crave  the  liberty  to  enjoy  it  in  her  own  room. 

"You  are  master  here,  sir,"  said  she,  "and  no  doubt 
despotically  enough  disposed  to  make  all  such  matters  bend 
to  your  will.  My  opposition  to  your  taking  this  liberty, 
would  I  am  therefore  persuaded,  be  fruitless,  and  should 
not  relieve  me  of  your  presence,  let  me  feel  it  as  disagreea 
ble  as  I  may." 

"  Then  my  presence  is  still  disagreeable  to  you,"  he  ob 
served  ;  "  well,  let  it  be  so,  since  yours  affords  me  delight, 
by  the  Holy  Virgin!  1  will  enjoy  it.  But,  my  fair  one.  1 
wish  you  to  join  me  in  this  breakfast,  for,  by  my  faith.  1  did 
not  bring  you  here  to  stare  you." 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  on  condition  that  you  avoid  the  subject 
so  grating  to  my  feeling,  I  shall  partake  with  you,  but  on  no 
other." 

"  He  bowed  a  complaisant  assent,  and  she  sat  down  to 
table  with  him.  But  the  meal  was  scarcely  over  when  he 
renewed  the  ungrateful  subject. 

"  Oh  !  how  happy,  Miss  Frazier,"  he  said,  looking  ten 
derly  at  her,  and  drawing  a  deep  sigh,  "should  I  be,  if  you 
were  thus  the  voluntary  and  permanent  mistress  of  my  table, 
and  myself!  Oh,  will  you  not  consent  to  receive  the  hand 
of  the  man  who  loves  you  beyond  all  the  world  ?" 

"The  reply,  sir,"  said  she,  "that  I  have  so  decisively 
given  to  that  question  already,  I  think  might  be  sufficient 


THE    WILDERN'ES*.  105 

to  convince  you  of  the  inulility  of  repeating  it.  That  re 
ply  was  made  never  in  be  changed,  and  it  never  can  be 
changed ! " 

"  Other  methods  must  then  be  tried,"  said  he  with  fierce 
ness  ;  "for  by  heavens!  I  must  have  you  for  my  own,  if 
there  be  energy  in  human  power  to  effect  it!" 

At  this  moment  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  was  heard.  "It  is 
these  cursed  Indians,"  said  he,  starting  to  his  feet,  "that 
are  going  to  hold  a  council  concerning  our  English  prison 
ers,  a  number  of  whom  they  are  resolved  to  burn.  I  have 
been  trying  to  persuade  them  from  it,  but  it  wont  do.  They 
must  be  gratified  ;  otherwise  they'll  go  oil  in  dudgeon,  and 
I  cannot  spare  them  at  present,  lest  the  British  under  Dunbar 
s.,ould  think  proper  to  make  a  trip  this  way.  I  must  attend 
their  council  now  and  save  as  many  alive  as  I  can." 

Maria,  whose  humanity  shuddered  at  this  intelligence,  and 
who  that  moment  thought  upon  the  fate  of  Charles  Adderly, 
which,  for  aught  she  knew  might  be  dependent  upon  the  de 
cision  of  this  very  council — caught  the  Governor's  arm  as  he 
v,  as  going  away. 

"  Oh,  for  the  love  of  heaven  !  Monsieur  de  Villien?,  "  said 
she,  "save  these  unfortunate  men.  God  will  bless  you  for 
the  deed." 

"Since  it  is  your  wish,  my  sweet  one,"  he  replied,  "I 
shall  do  my  utmost;  but  these  savages  claim  so  much  merit 
tor  their  lighting  the  day  before  yesterday,  that  I  fear  I  shall 
make  but  little,  of  them,  especially  as  they  captured  these 
men  themselves.  So  eager,  Miss  Frazicr,  are  they  for  burn 
ing  their  prisoners,  that  I  am  told  a  party  of  them  left  the 
field  of  battle  with  one  or  two  captives  whom  they  were  re 
solved  not  lobe  baffled  in  sacrificing,  and  canied  them  south 
ward,  lest,  if  they  had  brought  them  to  the  garrison,  I  should 
have  interfered  to  save  them.  But  I  perceive  the  old  Mingo 
prophet,  Tonnaleuka,  among  them.  This  promises  well,  as 
lie  is  always  averse  to  burning  prisoners,  and  he  has  more 
power  over  them  than  I  have.  Between  us,  1  think  we  shall 
!>e  able  to  save  some  of  these  Englishmen." 

"Oh,  I  beseech  you.  to  save  them  all,  if  yon  can,"  cried 
Maria. 

"  Thai  is  impossible,"  he  returned  ;  "  I  have  already  con- 


166  THE    WILDERNESS. 

ceded  that  they  should  have  at  least  twelve  at  their  disposal ; 
they  claimed  this  as  a  rew-ard  for  their  conduct  in  the  late 
battle,  and  I  could  not  well  refuse  them.  The  present  coun 
cil  is  to  determine  how  many  more  they  shall  have,  as  well 
as  to  select  the  twelve  for  whom  ihey  have  already  stipula 
ted.  If  the  Min {jo  prophet  assists  me,  I  think,  however,  we 
shall  he  nhle  to  save  the  remainder." 

"  That  prophet  is  a  good  man,  "  observed  Maria;  "  I  know 
he  will  assist  you,  and  may  heaven  also  assist  you  in  the 
benevolent  work.  " 

"Amen,"  said  De  Viliiers.  "Good  morning,  my  sweet 
girl,  I  will  think  of  your  wishes,  and  if  possible  protect  these 
men. " 

Shortly  after  De  Viliiers  departed,  the  sorrowful  Maria 
beheld  from  a  window  the  wretched  captives,  nearly  forty 
in  number,  tied  together,  in  pairs,  and  surrounded  by  several 
hundred  savages  who  were  dancing,  singing,  halloing,  and 
exhibiting,  in  every  grotesque  and  frantic  manner  that  could 
be  conceived,  their  tiiumph  over  the  unfortunate  objects  of 
their  baibarous  mirth.  Her  heart  for  a  moment  rejoiced  to 
see  that  Charles  Adderly  was  not  among  them  :  but  it  almost 
immediately  sunk  within  her,  when  she  recollected  that  his 
destruction  was  perhaps  on  that  very  account,  the  more  cer 
tainly  inevitable, 

"For  he,  alas,  "she  sighed,  "  my  unfortunate  Charles? 
He  must  be  in  the  hands  of  those  inveterate  savages,  who 
fled  with  their  victims  lest  the  French  should  rescue  them 
from  their  barbarity:  Ah  !  my  Charles,  to  what  an  evil  desti 
ny  have  we  both  been  born  !" 

As  these  reflections  passed  through  her  mind,  she  grew 
dizzy,  the  surrounding  objects  wavered  before  her  eyes  and 
she  staggered  back  to  her  couch  ;  but  there  a  tlood  of  tears 
conning  to  her  relief,  she  soon  became  again  calm  and  resign 
ed,  and  resumed  her  station  at  the  window.  Here  her  heart 
warmed  to  behold  Tonnaleuka.  His  presence  seemed  even 
under  the  circumstances  in  which  she  beheld  him,  to  throw 
a  certain  consciousness  of  security  around  her,  and  an  al 
most  confident  hope  that  the  poor  captives  who  excited  so 
much  of  her  sympathy,  would  escape  uninjured. 

He  was  earnestly  talking  to  some  of  the  Indian  chiefs. 


THE     \VILDERNESS.  167 

who  appeared  to  listen  to  him  with  great  attention.  At 
ienirth  i)(3  Vdliers  went  forward  to  him,  and  walking  aside 
wiiii  him  to  some  distance  from  the  groupe,  they  seemed  to 
converse  together  i'or  about  ten  minutes  \vith  great  earnest 
ness.  The  Governor  ilmn  returned  to  the  Indians,  and  giving 
the  word  to  march,  a  liourish  of  trumpets  succeeded,  and  tiie 
party,  consisting  almost  altogether  of  Indians  and  prisoners, 
proceeded  out  of  the  fortress.  Tonnaleuka  remaining  some 
distance  behind,  took  an  opportunity,  after  the  Governor  had 
disappeared,  when  he  was  unnoticed  by  the  sentinel,  who 
was  looking  after  the  procession,  to  make  an  obeisance  to 
^iaria,  who  still  remained  at,  the  window,  lie  then  lifting 
his  right  hand  to  heaven,  and  putting  it  threo  times  on  his 
riirhi  ear,  thereby  intimated  his  assurance,  that  God  would 
hear  her  prayers  for  protection,  and  afford  her  deliverance. 
She  motioned  to  him  in  token  cf  understanding  his  meaning 
.itid  he  disappeared,  leaving  on  tier  mind  a  feeling  of  encour 
agement,  oi  an  indefinable,  1ml  invigorating  nature,  as  strong 
ami  cheering  as  it  it  imparted  an  almost  certain  conviction 
that  she  was  under  the  immediate  care  of  heaven,  and  she 
fell  a  degree  of  tranquillity  and  for.itude  that  she  had  not 
betorc  experienced  since  her  captivitv. 

In  about  t\vo  hours,  she  heard  the  trumpets  again  sound 
ing,  and  in  a  short  time,  the  captives  and  their  savaire  con 
querors  returned  into  the  fort.  .Maria  perceived  that  the 
procession  was  not  now  so  numerous  as  when  it  lelt  the  fort ; 
but  this  excited  no  surprise  in  her  mind,  as  the  roving  and 
irregular  habits  of  the  Indians  occasioned  them  often  to  dis 
appear  suddenly  and  unaccountably  from  scenes,  in  which  it 
mio-ht  be  expected, they  would  feel  the  highest  interest. 

The  prisoners  being  conducted  to  their  quarters,  the  In 
dians  dispersed,  and  the  greater  number  of  them  instantly 
left  the  tort;  and  DC:  Villiers  hastened  to  visit  the  lovely  cap- 
live  whom  he  had  immediately  under  his  own  custody. 

"Miss  Fra/ier,"  said  he,  as  he  entered  her  apartment; 
"  1  am  heartily  jjlad  to  jret  rid  of  these  savages,  and  once 
more  enjoy  the  delight  of  your  presence.  It  is  like  changing 
the  company  of  fiends  for  that  of  an  angel.  " 

"Ah!  sir,  tel!  me."  she  returned,  "has  any  thing  been 
done  for  the  poor  F'/ntjIir-hmrii  '.  Have  you  serum1,  then 


168  THK     WILDERNESS. 

"  They  are  all  safe,  thank  God  !  "  he  replied  ;  "  except  the 
twelve  I  mentioned  to  you  who  have  been  selected  by  lot. 
I  exerted  myself  greatlv  since  I  knew  it  would  please  you. 

"And  what — \\hat!"  she  asked,  with  much  emotion,  "is 
to  become  of  these  unfortunate  twelve  ?" 

"  Why  I  fear  much  thai  tin;  savages  will  burn  them,  ac 
cording  to  their  custom  in  such  cases,"  replied  De  Villiers. 

'•  And  oh.  Monsieur  de  Villiers,"  said  she,  "  is  there  no 
way  left  to  save  them  from  such  a  cruel  fate?  Have  you 
not  force  enough,  influence  enough,  :o  protect  them.  Oh, 
think  that  these  men  nr-iy  have  tender  relatives — fathers,  and 
mothers,  wives  and  children,  whose  hearts  are  at  this  day 
in  agony  to  ascertain  their  fate  !  Oh,  think,  feel,  if  ihou 
canst  feel  for  the  misery  of  others,  what,  will  be  their  horror. 
their  distraction,  when  they  hear  thai  those  so  dear  to  them 
have  come  to  such  a  terrible  end.  Oh,  do  something  to  save 
them,  I  conjure  thee.  if  thou  wouldst  expect  salvation  thy 
self!" 

"  Why.  my  sweet  enchantress,"  said  he,  "why  plead  no 
strongly  in  behalf  of  men  of  whom  thou  knowest  nothing, 
and  who  neither  know  nor  care  any  thing  about  thee ;  and 
yet  be  so  imiiit'eient  to  the  prayers  and  entreaties  of  one 
who  adores  thee  '.  Why  feel  and  tremble  so  much  at  the 
idea  of  merti  stranger.-  bei:ig  burned  to  death  by  a  lire  of 
wood,  and  show  so  little  compassion  for  one  whose  life  thou 
art  barbarously  consuming  in  the  (lames  kindled  by  thy  own 
charms'?  Ah!  why,  cruel  girl,  accuse  the  savages  of  bar 
barity  to  their  victims,  who  are  their  enemies,  when  thou 
art  thyself  as  barbarous,  and  hard-hearted  to  thy  own  lover 
— to  me,  alas!  who  love  you  with  a  passion  too  violent  for 
me  to  bear  long  unrequited  and  live.'' 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  it  is  to  no  purpose  that  you  talk  in  this 
mariner.  Tell  me,  tell  me,  can  you  do  any  ihing  to  save 
these  unfortunate  men?" 

"Tell  me  first,  my  angel,"  returned  lie,  "can  you,  will 
you  do  any  thing  to  save  me  from  a  worse  fate?" 

"  Oil,  my  God,"  she  cried — looking  up  to  heaven,  "direct 
me,  merciful  Power  !  what  to  say — what  to  do! — Alas,  sir," 
she  continued  casting-  her  eyes  upon  De  Villiers,  "to  \vhai 
straits  would  vou  drive  me,  say — say— for  heaven's  i<:ike. 
.-an  YOU  vive  these  men  '' 


THE     WILDERNESS.  169 

"  If  you  give  me  your  hand  at  the  altar,"  said  he,  after  a 
little  apparent  meditation,  "as  the  price  of  their  lives,  you 
shall  have  them,  if  I  should  turn  out  my  garrison  to  rescue 
ihein  from  the  stakes." 

••Oh,  heavenly  Father!"  she  exclaimed,  "to  what  a  situ 
ation  am  I  reduced  !  Alas,  sir,  I  cannot,  I  cannot — Oh, 
hear  me — I  would,  ah  !  1  think  I  would  jrive  it  to  you  to 
save  these  victims,  hut  alas,  it  is  pledged,  irrevocably  pledg 
ed  to  another." 

"  \  our  hand  pledged  to  another!"'  exclaimed  De  Villiers, 
rising  from  his  seat  in  surprise,  and  pacing  the  room  in  great 
irritation.  "Your  hand  pledged  to  another,  and  no  doubt 
your  heart  too — Miss  Fruzier,  is  it  not  so  !" 

'•  Aias,  sir,  I  cannot  deny  it.  Bin  surely,  surely,  if  it  be 
in  your  power,  you  will  not  let  these  unhappy  prisoners 
die/' 

"Die!"  he  repealed,  "yes — that  they  must.  But — but, 
perhaps,  no,"  said  he,  suddenly  changing  his  manner.  "  It 
is — that  is,  it  may  be  still  in  your  power  to  save  them.  You 
are.  not  married,  1  hope?" 

"  No,  sir." 

••  Then,  my  lovely  fair  one,  these  men  may  yet  be  safe. 
Let  us  make  a  bargain — let  your  hand  be  mine,  and  their 
lives  shall  be  yours." 

"Alas,  sir,  have  1  not  told  you  that  my  hand  is  already 
pledged.'' 

"  Mereiv  pledged,"  cried  he,  "  what  signifies  that  ?  A 
mere  verbal  promise.  The  wind  of  the  mouth,  which, 
when  it  passes  into  the  air,  is  nothing.  Miss  Fnizier,  you 
will  surely  not  place  such  a  trifle,  such  a  nonentity  into 
competition  with  the  lives  of  twelve  human  beings.  Say 
the  word,  my  sweetest,  tenderest,  loveliest  of  women,  utter, 
and  they  are  safe." 

"Alas,  sir! — Oh,  what  can  I  do?  but  it  is  impossible. 
I  cannot  unsay  whatl  have  said.  1  cannot  forfeit  my  truth! 
Ao,  no,  rather  than  that,  let  me  first  die  the  death  allotted 
to  these  men  !" 

"  Then  these  men  whom  you  devote;  to  the  llainns  shall 
•  lie!"  said  he,  and  he  hastened  out  of  the  room  in  a  par- 
ox  vsm  of  rape. 


170  THK    WILDERNESS. 

In  about  twenty  minutes  the  sound  of  trnrnpets  was  heard, 
and  a  guard  of  soldiers  appeared  conducting  twelve  prison 
ers  across  tin1  court  of  the  fortress  opposite  Maria's  window, 
at  the  distance  of  about  twenty  yards  from  which  De  Vil- 
liers  gave  the  word,  and  the  party  halted,  and  fronted  to 
wards  the  window.  The  prisoners  with  their  heads  un 
covered,  then  kneeled  and  looked  up  to  Maria,  as  if  earnest 
ly  supplicating  for  some  important  favor. 

De  Villiers  left  them  in  this  situation,  and  hastened  to  her 
apartment. 

"Look,"  said  he,  "hard-hearted  girl,  at  those  poor  men 
now  under  sentence  to  suffer,  within  one  hour,  the  most 
terrible  of  all  deaths,  burning  at  the  stake  !  Look  at  them 
on  their  knees  imploring  tliee  to  deliver  them  from  a  fast 
approaching  and  cruel  late.  I  have  told  them  that  their 
destiny  is  in  thy  hands,  that  if  it  pleascth  thee,  I  will  defend 
them  from  the.  vengeance  of  the  condemnation  that  has  been 
passed  against  them.  Wilt  tliou  save  them,  or  wilt  thon  let 
them  perish  1 

Maria  looked  at  the  men.  Their  uniforms  of  red,  in 
times  of  prosperity  the  most  brilliant  and  imposing  of  all 
warlike  colors,  now  stained  and  tattered  :  their  wobegone 
countenances  and  wearied-out  frames,  their  humble  pos 
ture,  their  hair  uncovered  and  scattered  lo  the  winds,  to  the 
imagination  of  Maria,  bespoke  misery,  hardship,  and  terror 
in  the  extreme.  She  burst  into  tears  as  she  beheld  them  : 
for  she  reflected  that  these  very  men.  had,  perhaps,  been 
once  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  domestic  comforts,  virtu 
ous  endearments,  attachments  ;  and  now.  when  on  the  very 
verge  of  terminating  their  existence,  of  leaving  all  their  joys 
and  affections  behind  them,  and  undergoing  the  most  excru 
ciating  species  of  destruction,  she  beheld  them  imploring 
her,  who  had  it  in  her  power  to  save  them  by  foregoing 
her  own  happiness,  not  to  consign  them  to  their  awful  doom 
from  any  selfish  consultation  of  her  own  wishes,  but  by 
gratifying  a  man  who  besought  her  to  become  his  wife,  to 
deliver  them  and  restore  them  to  safety.  What  was  she 
to  do?  Could  she  deny  ])e  Viiliers,  and  have  these  pour 
supplicants  carried  oil'  ta  instant  destruction  ;  or  could  S!K' 
yield  to  his  desires,  and  make  herself  miserable,  and  whnr 


THE    WILDERNESS.  171 

was  the  worst  of  all  alternatives,  ho  unfaithful  to  Charles 
Adderly? 

De  \  illicrs  perceived  her  wavering,  and  he  urged  her  to 
a  decision.  "Five  minutes,  my  love,"  said  he,  pulling  out 
his  watch — '-Let  five  minutes  pass  without  promising  to 
become  my  wife,  and  these  men  shall  be  ordered  away  to 
the  stakes  and  the  faggots  already  prepared  for  their  execu 
tion — " 

"Oh,  barbarous  man  !  have  mercy,  have  mercy  !"  she  ex 
claimed.  Her  eyeballs  swelled,  her  lips  quivered  and  grew 
pale,  her  limbs  tottered  under  her,  aad  she  fell  backwards 
upon  the  floor.  "  Cod  of  heaven,  I  have  killed  her  !''  cried 
De  Villiers.  lie  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  placed  her  on  the 
lied,  rind  calling  loudly  for  assistance,  the  attending  squaw 
made  her  appearance.  Some  stimulants  were  applied  to 
Maria's  temples,  and  she  soon  began  again  to  respire,  and 
recover  her  sensibility.  She  at  length  incoherently  exclaim 
ed  :— 

"  Oh  !  tell  me — they  have  not  surely  sent  them  to  the 
flames!  The  governor  cannot  be  so  barbarous!  Let  them 
he  saved — let  ihem  he  saved1  Alas!  I  cannot  bear  to  have 
them  burned  !" 

[)e  Villiers  now  made  a  signal  out  of  the  window,  for  the 
troops  and  the  prisoners  to  withdraw.  Then  returning  io 
Maria's  bed-side?,  he  watched  over  her  with  great  anxieiy. 
until  he  saw  the  regular  chain  of  her  thoughts  properly  re- 
sirred,  which  took  place  much  sooner  than  lie  expected. 
His  desire  to  work  upon  her  feelings,  so  as  to  extort  from 
her  a  consent  to  marry  him,  returned  with  her  recovery; 
and  to  her  inquiry  of  what  had  been  done  with  the  unfortu 
nate  prisoners,  he  replied  : 

"  They  are,  my  love,  respited  until  to-morrow  at  noon,  in 
order  that  you  may  have  time  to  deliberate  leisurely,  and 
decide  upon  their  fate  and  mine.  And,  oh  !  may  I  conjure 
you.  Miss  Fra/ier,  before  that  time,  to  resolve  on  saying 
the  word  which  will  save  them  from  destruction  and  me 
trom  despair!  I  shall  now  leave  you,  that  you  may  enjoy 
repose,  (live  vour  commands  to  llalmanna,  this  squaw, 
and  she  will  supply  you  with  whatever  the  garrison  can 
afford  to  make  von  comfortable." 


172  THE     WILDERNESS. 

So  saying,  he  relieved  Maria  of  his  presence  by  with 
drawing  from  the  apartment. 

The  shock  she  had  sustained  had  thrown  her  into  a  vio 
lent  fever  ;  and  a  certain  wildness  in  her  expression  and 
manner  had  become  so  apparent,  as  to  alarm  Ilalmanna, 
who  in  consequence  entertained  some  thoughts  of  acquaint 
ing  i)e  Villiers  with  the  circumstance,  in  order  that  medical 
aid  miofht  be  procured,  when  she  saw  the  prophet  Tonna- 
leuka  entering  the  house.  Ilalmanna,  who  believed  that  if 
either  earl  lily  or  spiritual  aid  could  assist  Maria,  the  prophet 
was  the  most  likely  person  to  afford  it,  answered  Tonna- 
leuka's  inquiry  after  Miss  Frazier,  by  expressing  a  desire 
that  he  should  visit  her,  as  she  was  very  sick. 

This  be  in  <T  exactly  what  Tonnaleuka  intended  to  do,  he 
did  not  require  a  second  invitation  ;  but:  desiring  the  squaw 
to  remain  below  stairs,  and  not  come  near  the  apartment 
unless  sent  for,  while  he  remained  with  the  young  ladv,  he 
in  a  few  moments  was  in  Maria's  presence.  The  very  ap 
pearance  of  this  venerable  man,  who  had  from  her  infant' v 
been  her  guide,  her  oracle,  and  her  friend,  and  the  soothing, 
parental  sound  of  his  voice,  produced  a  powerful  effect  in 
allaying  her  fever,  which,  having  been  occasioned  altogether 
by  an  over-wrought  mental  excitement,  now  obtained  its 
proper  remedy  in  the  application  of  comfort,  encouragement, 
and  consolation. 

•'  Oh,  my  father,"  said  she,  as  he  advanced,  "your  Maria 
has  at  length  known  misfortune — she  has  suffered  misery — 
she  has  felt  despair.  Oh,  art  thou  now  come,  as  thou  wert 
ever  wont,  to  administer  peace  and  comfort  to  my  soul  ?" 

"  My  daughter,  I  am  come  for  that  purpose,"  replied  the 
prophet,  sitting  down  beside  her,  "and  I  thank  our  Great 
Father,  it  is  in  my  power. 

"  My  daughter,  hear  me  !  My  words  arc  comfort,  and 
they  are  truth.  Thou  hast  this  day  been  greatly  imposed 
upon  by  the  wicked  governor  of  this  fortress  !  The  prison 
ers  whom  thou  sawest,  are  not  condemned  to  suffer,  nor  are 
there  any  now  under  such  condemnation.  Alas  !  those  who 
were  condemned  —  twelve  gallant  soldiers,  my  heart  still 
bleeds  for  them — were  meanly  given  up  by  the  Governor 
?r?  I  could  interpose  in  their  behalf,  and  in  despite  of  all  my 


THK    WILDERNESS.  17H 

•  vi?rtions,  they  were  curried  across  the  Allegheny  river  at 
1,00:1  this  day,  -md  committed  to  the  flames.     Their  sulVer- 
i;ii:s  arc  by  this  time  terminated,  and  the  tribes  will,  cm  this 

sion,  require  no  more  victim?. 

'•Hear  me,  my  daughter.      Those   who  were  sentenced 

to   die,  returned   not   hack    to  the   fort  alter  leaving  it  this 

morning.      A  hand   of  Ottawas  went  directly  with    them   to 

place  oi'  death,  and   many  oi'  my  red   brothers  who  did 

return    10   the    fort,  followed    immediately  after  dismissal,  to 

ie\v  the  sacrifice. 

'•  Hear  me  further.      A.S  I  Avas  amidst  the  English  prison- 

•  •rs.  after  the  Indians  had  withdrawn,  assuring  them  of  their 
.safety,  for  they  understood  not  the  language  in  which   their 
laie  was  decided,  aad   therefore   knew  it   not.  the  Governor 
.•nine  amonu'  them,      lie  ordered  twelve  of  them  to  be  sepa 
rated    from    the-   rest.      Me  promised  them  permission  to  re 
turn    to    their   countrymen    under    Colonel    Dunbar,  if  they 
would    advance    into    the    middle   of  the   fortress-yard,   and 
ihere    kneel,  uncovered,  before   a  young  lady  who  should 
•:ppcar  a;    the  window  of  her  residence,  and  obtain   in   that 
immble   pasture,  her  consent  to  their  enlargement.      He   in 
formed    them,  that   while    makin<>;   their   supplications,  they 
•  hiKiid    not  speak,  as  the  lady  did  not  understand   Kniflish  ; 
lor  his  whole  scheme  was  a  system  of  falsehood,)  but  that 

lie  himself  ^hoidd  convey  to  het-  the  purport  of  their  re- 
.jiiesl.  and  report  the  lady's  answer.  lie  has  smce  inform 
ed  them  thai  your  answer  will  not  bo  t>'iven  till  to-morrow 
;ioon.  in  ihe  meaiiiime.  ihe  men  are  duped  by  this  artifice 
1o  expect  liber! v  which  he  will  not  jjTant,  as  you  have  been 
deceived  into  the  belief  that  they  were  petitioning  to  be  res 
cued  from  a  danger  which  they  neither  dreaded,  nor  have 
any  reason  to  dread. 

"Therefore,  my  daughter,  hear  tnv  advice.  Persevere 
in  your  refusal  to  become  ibis  man's  wife.  Powerful  as  he 
is.  the  (Ireat  Spirit  is  more  powerful  than  he,  and  will  frus 
trate  all  his  designs  against  you,  because  he  loves  virtue, 
and  you  are  virtuous,  and  because  he  hates  vice,  and  this 
man  is  vicious.  Before  many  davs,  I  trust  that  the  (Iivat 
Spirit  will  raise  up  a  deliverer  tor  von,  and  disappoint  the 
:vntnt  in  his  desiyn*. 


171  THK    WILDERNESS. 

"  -My  daughter,  treasure  this  my  advice  in  your  heart,  and 
fear  neither  the  cunning  nor  the  force  of  ihe  tempter." 

"  F;ither,  vou  h.ave  indeed  comforted  me."  she  replied. 
"You  have  restored  life  to  my  soul.  For  myself,  1  now 
fear  noiimi'.r.  ?ince  thou.  whose  words  have  never  yet  de 
ceived  me,  iiast  hade  me  not  fear.  But,  oh  father!  forgive 
my  weakness,  when  I  say  I  am  still  wretched,  since  there 
is  one  whom  thou  knowest  to  he  clear  to  me,  in  danger. 
Alas  !  !  need  not  name  him.  Canst  thou  tell  me  auirbi  of 
him  ?" 

"My  daughter,"  said  the  prophet,  "I  know  thy  heart  In 
distressed  on  account  of  that  youth,  i  have  discovered  the 
path  his  captors  have  caused  him  to  tread,  and  hope  too, 
that  the  Great  Spirit  will  extend  to  him  a  share  of  that 
mercy  with  which  he  is  ever  ready  to  aid  the  virtuous,  and 
that  he  will  rescue  him  whose  misfortunes  you  lament,  from 
the  dangers  that  surround  him. 

"My  daughter,  I  a<iain  recommend  you  io  he  of  good 
cheer  in  all  these  mutters.  Inform  not  the  Governor  thai 
you  know  his  perlidy.  It  would  only  exasperate  him.  and 
induce  him  to  have  recourse  to  other  stratagems  which  might 
involve  you  in  fresh  trouhles.  '.Require  time  to  deliberate. 
ere  you  give,  an  answer  to  his  demands.  A  little  delay  may 
bring  you  deliverance.  But  never,  never,  on  an\  account, 
answer  him  according  '«'  his  wishes.  i''or,  mv  dauuin.  :, 
you  know  him  io  he  wicked.  I  idling  your  late  with  him, 
would  be,  therefore,  io  join  in  his  wickedness.  But  i  need 
not  counsel  you  thus,  since  1  know  that  your  virtue  is  firm, 
and  your  heart  constant." 

•'  Oh,  father,"  said  she,  seizing  the  prophet's  hand  and 
kissing  it,  while  she  moistened  it  with  tears  of  gratitude  and 
joy,  "thou  hast  ever  been  to  me  the  source  of  wisdom  and 
the  inspirer  of  virtue.  Next  to  my  heavenly  Preserver,  1 
owe  to  thee  the  chief  blessings  of  my  life.  Whilst  thou 
watchest  over  my  safety,  methinks  that  no  evil  can  befall 
me.  Oh,  lather,  wilt  thou  watch  over  that  of  Charles  Ad- 
derly  '{  Alas  !  what  would  protection  be  to  me,  if  he  meets, 
with  destruction  !" 

"  My  daughter,  hear  me — all  dial  is  in  my  power  to  do 
for  that  young1  man,  is  now  doing1  ;  and  when  I  say  I  doubt 


THE    WILDERNESS.  175 

not  of  hib  safety,  why  should  you  doubt  of  it  l.  Why  should 
vou  tremble,  when  1  say  to  you,  be  of  good  cheer  on  his 
account  as  well  a?  your  own  I  Our  great  Father,  on  whom 
you  must  never  forget  to  place  your  principal  dependence, 
will  never  fail  you.-  He  will,  as  the  oracles  of  your  religion 
say,  '  make  all  things  work  to<n-ther  for  the  good  of  those 
that  love  him.' 

"  My  child,  that  military  parade  at  which  the  Governor 
is  now  employed,  will  soon  be  over,  tie  will  then,  no 
doubt,  return  to  you.  I  must  therefore  withdraw.  May 
the  Great.  Being  on  whom  you  depend,  protect  you,  and 
keep  you  firm  !'' 

lie  now  departed — but  before  leaving  the  house,  he  laid 
upon  Halmanna  his  commands  that  she  should  inform  no 
one  of  his  visit  to  the  sick  lady. 

"  Thanks  to  Mane  to,"  said  he,  il  she  is  now  free  from  her 
fever,  liut  a  worse  complaint  will  seize  thee,  Halmanna, 
if  thou  disobeyest  my  directions." 

'•Far  be  it  from  me,"  replied  Ilalmanna  trembling,  "to 
disobey  the  prophet  of  Maneto." 

"  Then  may  Maneto  bless  thee,"  said  Tonnaleuka,  and 
waving  his  awful  wand  over  her  head,  he  disappeared. 


170  THE    WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Ask  me  not  what  the  maiden  feels, 
Left  in  that  dreadful  hour  alone; 
Perchance  her  reason  stoops  or  reels— 
Perchance  a  courage  not  her  own 
Braces  her  mind  to  desperate  tone. 

SCOTT. 

IN  about  half  an  hour  after  liie  prophet  withdrew,  De 
Villiers  visited  Maria.  He  expressed  great  satisfaction  to 
find  that  she  was  so  much  better  than  he  had  expected  ;  but 
as  she  felt  an  inclination  for  repose,  and  informed  him  of  it, 
he  conceived  that  indulging  her  in  it  at  this  time,  would  con 
tribute  greatly  to  the  further  restoration  of  her  health  and 
serenity.  lie  therefore  shortened  his  visit,  and  briefly  ex 
horting  her  for  the  sake  of  the  unhappy  prisoners,  as  he 
called  them,  for  his  sake,  and  for  her  own,  before  the  ap 
pointed  hour,  to  determine  on  being  his  wife,  he  withdrew 
without  offering  her  any  species  of  rudeness. 

The  next  morning,  wishing  to  gain  somewhat  upon  her 
esteem,  by  a  conciliating  demeanor,  and  a  show  of  delicacy 
towards  her,  he  admitted  her  plea  of  indisposition,  and  did 
not  insist  on  joining  her  at  breakfast.  Shortly  afterwards, 
however,  he  entered  her  apartment.  She  appeared  tranquil 
and  resigned,  because  the  suggestion  of  hope  had  afforded 
her  consolation,  and  inspired  her  with  fortitude.  There 
was,  in  consequence,  a  sweetness  in  her  looks,  and  an  in 
crease  of  her  charms,  unknown  or  unthought  of  by  herself, 
which  rendered  her  appearance  altogether  more  irresistibly 
fascinating  than  he  thought  he  had  ever  before  beheld  it. 
His  passion  for  her  was  therefore  more  than  usually  in 
flamed.  But  afraid  of  again  occasioning  her  such  a  degree 
of  mental  excitement  as  had  overpowered  her  the  preceding 
evening,  he  resolved  to  restrain  the  impetuosity  of  his  feel- 


THK     WILDERNESS.  177 

•ngs,  and,  if  possible,  arldress  her   in  language   that  should 
vieither  alarm  nor  offend  her. 

"  Miss  Frazicr,"  said  he,  "I  need  scarcely  express  my 
'lappiness  at  seeing  your  serenity  and  contentment  so  far 
restored  while  under  my  roof,  that  I  think  you  could  in  time 
bring  yourself  to  live  comfortably  with  me.  This  circum- 
'-tance  affords  me  some  hope  that  my  application  for  your 
'land  may  not  be  altogether  in  vain,  and  that  perhaps  you 
have  come  to  the  resolution  to  decide  favorably  upon  the 
important  affair  now  committed  to  your  award." 

"Sir,"  she  replied,  "I  have  been  thinking  of  that  affair  ; 
but  it  is  really  one  of  too  much  importance  to  be  decided 
without  more  deliberation  than  1  have  yet  given  it." 

"Ah!  Miss  Frazier,"  said  he.  "surely  you  cannot  hesi 
tate  to  interpose  a  single  word  between  twelve  fellow-beings 
and  destruction  ;  and  you  know  the  hour  speedily  approach 
es,  which,  without  that  interposition,  shall  consign  them  to 
their  fate." 

"  Monsieur  De  Villiers,"  said  she,  "I  have  never  yet 
asked  a  favor  from  you  for  myself,  and  when  I  first  entered 
these  walls  I  conceived  that  1  never  should.  I  have  now 
ehanjred  my  mind  *o  far  as  to  make  a  request,  which  I  hope 
you  will  not  refuse  to  grant." 

"Ask  it,  my  sweet  one,"  he  replied,  "and  anything  but 
parting  with  you,  that  is  within  the  compass  of  my  power  to 
grant,  I  pledge  my  honor  shall  not  be  denied  yon." 

"  My  request  is  moderate,"  she  replied,  "  altogether  with 
in  your  power  to  grant.  It  is  only  that  I  may  be  indulged 
with  a  few  davs  longer  time  to  'deliberate  on  this  matter  ; 
for  I  feel  it  impossible  to  bring  my  mind  to  such  an  instan 
taneous  change  of  feeling,  as  to  forget,  the  youth  to  whom  I 
am  pledged,  and  promise  to  wed  another,  by  the  mere  effort 
of  only  one  day's  consideration." 

lie  paced  the  room  for  sometime  in  silent  meditation  after 
hearmir  this  request.  At  length,  he  said, 

••It  is  perhaps  reasonable,;  it  is  perhaps  natural,  that 
this  should  be  so  ;  and  you  will  never  lind  me,  mv  bewitch 
ing  irirl,  inclined  to  treat  you  unreasonably.  \  on  shall 
have  a  few  days  ;  but,  oh!  let  them  be  few — for  my  heart 
longs,  exceedingly  longs,  to  call  you  its  own  !" 


178 


THE    WILDERNESS. 


"Give  me  one  week,"  said  she;  "alas  !  I  fear  even  thai 
will  be  too  short  for  my  purpose  !" 

"  .My  fairest  love  !"  cried  he,  "must  I  postpone  my  bliss 
so  long ?  But  I  will  indulge  thee.  I  will  show  thee  by  so 
doing,  that  1  value  thy  comfort,  thy  wishes,  more  than  1  do 
my  own.  I  will  now  hasten  to  inform  the  unfortunate  Eng 
lishmen  that  they  have  obtained  from  thee  at  least  one  week's 
reprieve  from  their  awful  sentence:  and  oh  !  may  they  at 
last  obtain  from  thy  humanity  their  final  deliverance! 
Think  not  that  1  am  cruel  towards  them,  my  fair  one. 
Alas  !  thon  art  cruel  towards  me  ;  and  if  they  he  sacrificed, 
it  shall  be  to  thy  barbarity — they  shall  be  the  victims  of  my 
rejected  love." 

She  made  no  replv  to  !his  hypocritical  address;  for  her 
soul  despised  his  deception,  and  she  even  feared  to  look  at 
him,  lest  the  indignation  of  her  eyes  sbould  betray  that  she 
was  aware  of  his  falsehood.  Very  much  to  her  satisfac 
tion,  however,  he  scarcely  wailed  lor  a  reply,  hut.  with  the 
sell-congratulating  air  of  a  man  who  has  sained  a  great  tri 
umph,  he  bade  her  <iood  morning,  and  retired. 

The  next  day  happened  to  be  a  gala  day  among  the 
French,  whether  on  account  of  its  being  the  birth  day  ot  a 
saint  or  a  grand moitftrque.,  is  immaterial,  and  arrantrements 
had  been  made  for  celebrating  it  by  a  grand  fete,  in  which 
the  greater  portion  of  the  soldiers  were  to  be  engaged. 
About  two  hundred  and  fifty,  it  was  resolved,  should  pro 
ceed  about  mid-day  to  a  rising  ground,  now  called  Grant's 
Hill,  nearly  half  a  mile  to  the  eastward  of  the  fort,  where  it 
was  intended  that  they  should  march,  and  countermarch, 
fire  artillery  and  musketry,  eat  a  hearty  dinner,  and  get 
drunk,  and  sing,  and  swear,  and  dance,  and  cut  capers,  un 
til  they  were  tired  ;  when  they  should  return  in  the  even 
ing  to  the  fort,  tumble  into  iheir  couches,  and  snore  off  their 
debauch  like  gay  fellows. 

At  about  twelve  o'clock,  the  whole  garrison  was  accord 
ingly  put  in  motion,  the  soldiers  and  officers  running  pro 
miscuously  to  and  fro  upon  the  parade  ground,  where  they 
were  to  fall  into  ranks,  previous  to  their  marching  for  the 
scene  of  revelry. 

Maria  had  just  stationed  herself  at  her  window,  to  view 


IHi:     WILDERNESS.  179 

i lie  scene,  when  she  beheld  the  Tonnaleuka  entering  tlie 
fortress-gate,  accompanied  by  an  Indian  chief,  of  a  tall  and 
majestic  figure.  Do  YTiliers  had,  at  this  moment,  entered 
upon  the  parade-ground,  I'or  the  purpose  of  ordering  the 
troops  to  assume  their  ranks.  lie  halted  as,  he  perceived 
she  prophet  and  the  chiel  advancing  towards  him.  Alter 
i  onversing  a  lew  minutes  with  the  former,  he  made  an  obei 
sance  to  the  hitter  ;  and  calling  upon  a  soldier,  he  gave  him 
some  instructions,  when  the  soldier  led  the  way,  followed 
by  Tonnaleuka  and  his  companion,  to  the  governor's  house. 
In  a  short  time,  the  soldier  returned  to  take  his  place  in  the 
ranks  ;  and  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes  more,  the  drums  and 
tiles  struck  up  a  quick  march,  and  the  whole  party  proceed 
ed  to  Grant's  Hill.  Soon  afterwards,  Maria  perceived  the 
prophet  alone  crossing  the  area  before  her  window,  towards 
the  irate.  He  looked  suddenly  back,  at  a  time  when  he  was 
unnoticed  by  any  on?  in  the  yard,  and  hastily  saluting  her, 
continued  his  way  out  of  the  fort. 

There  was  an  air  of  something  of  importance  and  satis 
faction  visible  in  his  manner.  She  even  thought,  that,  at  the 
time  he  saluted  her,  she  had  seen,  what  she  did  not  recol 
lect  ever  before  to  have  seen,  a  smile  playing  on  his  coun 
tenance,  and  she  could  not  but  feel  confident  that  some  event 
wa-  about  to  take  place  for  her  advantage. 

She  was  occupied  with  these  thoughts,  when  Halmanna, 
entering  the  room,  informed  her  that  she  had  been  command 
ed  by  the  Mingo  prophet  to  conduct  a  duel  of  the  Piantia 
tribe  into  her  apartment,  but  not  to  reveal  the  circumstance 
to  any  other  person  in  the  garrison. 

"What  can  the  chiel'  want  with  me  ?"  thought  Maria. 
"But  he  can  want  nothing  but  good,  since  his  errand  is  sanc 
tioned  by  Touna'euka.  "  She  therefore  desired  Halmanna 
to  admit  him.  Her  heart  beat  violently  as  she  heard  his 
steps  advancing.  She  rose  to  meet  him,  and  beckoned  the 
squaw,  who  was  entering  before  him,  to  retire.  He  was 
dressed  in  an  elk-skin  robe,  the  long  skirls  of  which  reached 
below  the  calves  of  his  legs.  This  robe  was  closely  wrap 
ped  round  his  waist,  so  as  to  show  the  well-formed  con 
figuration  of  his  person,  and  fastened  securely  there  with  a 
broad  belt,  fantastically,  but  rather  handsomely,  ornamented 


180  THE     WILDERNESS. 

with  porcupine's  quills  dyed  of  various  colors.  His  arms 
were  covered  with  a  kind  of  roller,  made  of  stripes  of  the 
soft  fur-skins  of  the  smaller  animals,  neatly  enough  attached 
to  each  other  with  thongs  of  half-tanned  deer-skin,  and 
wound  round  the  arms  from  the  shoulders  to  the  wrists. 
At  the  shoulders,  the  elbows,  and  the  wrists,  these  rollers 
were  kept  in  their  places  by  leathern  bands,  also  ornamented 
with  variegated  porcupine's  quills.  His  cap  wns  of  a  very 
showy  description,  made  of  beaver-skin,  with  a  high  plume 
formed  of  feathers  of  different  dyes,  which,  glittering  in  the 
sun  as  he  moved  along  the  fortress-yard,  produced  to  the 
eye  of  the  spectator  a  very  striking  and  brilliant  effect.  Tas 
sels,  made  of  small  feathers,  also  of  various  colors,  hung  in 
abundance,  eight  or  nine  being  on  each  side,  over  his  ears 
and  down  his  cheeks,  so  as  to  shade  and  partly  conceal  them  ; 
forming,  on  the  whole,  a  singularly  beautiful  and  gaudy  cos 
tume.  His  feet  and  legs  were  covered  with  mockasins  and 
legions,  in  the  usual  manner  of  the  Indians. 

This  chief,  so  majestic  in  his  person  and  splendid  in  his 
apparel,  on  entering  the  chamber  of  Maria,  approached  her 
evidently  with  much  emotion,  and,  to  her  great  astonishment, 
addressed  her  in  English. 

"  How  sorry  I  arn,  Miss  Frazier"  said  he,  "to  find  you  a 
captive  in  such  a  place,  and  in  the  hands  of  such  a  man  ! — 
But  I  forget — you  do  not  know  me  in  this  disguise.  Alas  ! 
has  the  form  of  him  who  loves  you  with  an  ardor  beyond 
whatever  man  has  felt  for  woman,  made  so  slight  an  impres 
sion  upon  your  mind,  that  the  mere  changing  of  the  l;ue  of 
his  countenance  can  conceal  him  from  your  recollection  ? 
Must  I  name  to  you  the  man  who  loves  you  with  a  tender 
ness  and  a  devotedness,  which  none  but  himself  can  ever 
feel  ? — alas,  must  I  name  to  you — GEORGE  WASHINGTON  ? 

"Oh,  my  friend!"  cried  she,  alarmed  for  his  safety— 
'•  friend  of  the  oppressed  !  hero  of  thy  country  !  how  is  it 
that  you  have  ventured  upon  this  dangerous  ground  ?  I  trem 
ble  lest  you  be  discovered.  The  Indians  would  have  no 
mercy  upon  you,  and  the  French  who  possess  this  place  are 
scarcely  less  barbarous." 

"  To  rescue  you,  my  soul's  beloved,"  he  replied,  "  I  did 
not  hesitate  to  venture  hero.  Ah,  where  would  I  not  ven- 


THE     WILDKKNKSS.  181 

tu re  tor  such  a  pupose !  But,  fear  not,  Miss  Frazier,  1 
come  strong  in  the  confidence  of  doing  a  good  deed  ;  strong 
in  the  confidence  that  he  who  has  preserved  me  amidst  more 
eminent  clangers,  will  preserve  me  through  this  ;  or  if  I 
should  fall  doing  my  duty,  and  in  the  attempt  to  serve  thee, 
thou  fairest,  most  injured  of  my  country's  daughters,  it  shall 
be  a  fall  so  honest,  so  glorious,  that  rny  conscious  spirit  will 
in  other  regions  look  back  upon  it  as  a  matter  of  joy  and 
exultation." 

"  Ah,  sir!"  said  she  ;  "was  it  not  rash  to  risk  that  life  on 
which,  perhaps,  the  salvation  of  a  nation  depends,  for  the 
'••afety  of  an  individual  !" 

"  It  i*  never  rash  to  perform  our  duty,"  replied  the  hero  ; 
"  no  matter  what  may  be  the  risk.  Thou  wert  in  distress. 
I  was  informed  of  it.  That  information  was  a  call  from 
heaven  to  hasten  to  thy  rescue,  and  I  fear  not  but  that  heav 
en  will  assist  me  in  accomplishing  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  she  ;  "  1  have  confidence  in  your  success,  al 
though  I  know  not  by  what  means  yon  intend  to  effect  it. 
}{ut  you  are  the  favorite  of  heaven,  and  whatever  you  may 
undertake  I  know  will  succeed.  Hut  were  you  not  afar  oil 
when  I  was  seized  ?  It  is  yet  but  a  lew  days  since.  By 
what  strange  means  could  you  hear  it,  and  by  what  miracle 
are  you  here,  in  the  midst  of  the  terrors  of  fort  I)u  Quesne 
so  soon,  and  uninjured?" 

•'  I  shall  inform  you,"  said  he.  "It  was  the  evening  before 
yesterday.  1  had  just  returned  from  the  procession  which 
conveyed  General  Braddock  to  his  last  home,  when  your 
brother  Paddy  entered  my  tent.  lie  acquainted  me  in  a  few 
words,  but  they  were  words  that  cut  me  to  the  heart,  that. 
the  French  had  attacked  your  father's  house,  and  carried 
vou  oil' to  Fort  Du  Quesne,  by  order  of  its  Governor.  Alas, 
i bought  I,  now  indeed  is  come  to  pass  that1  which  I  long 
feared  would  be  the  consequence  of  so  much  beauty  living 
~o  far  from  the  protection  of  the  laws  and  customs  of  regu 
lar  society  !  But  it  was  no  time  for  retrospection.  How 
to  rescue  you  from  your  ravishers  was  the  only  question. 
To  think  of  force  was  vain.  The  remnant  of  the  Virginians 
left  by  the  late  battle,  scarcely  exceed  a  hundred,  and  Dun 
bur  is  commar der  n|  the  regular?.  Hut  even  had  1  possessed 


182  THK    WILDERNESS. 

an  adequate  force  with  which  to  attack  this  fortress,  to  bring 
that  force  against  it,  would  not  have  been  the  surest  way  to 
effect  your  deliverance.  It  would  have  warned  the  tyrant 
that  he  was  in  danger  of  losing  you.  and  he  would  have  re 
moved  you  to  some  secret  place,  where  perhaps  all  our  dili 
gence  could  not  have  found  you.  Personal  exertions  were, 
therefore,  the  only  means  I  had  left,  and  I  resolved  to  try 
them.  The  prophet  had  desired  me  to  meet  him  in  his  cav 
ern,  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  in  order  to  decide  upon 
the  measures  we  should  adopt.  Before  coming  to  any  de 
termination,  therefore,  I  thought  proper  to  hasten  there. 

"I  accordingly  informed  Colonel  Dunbar,  who,  on  ac 
count  of  the  harrassed  and  fatigued  state  of  his  men,  does 
not  intend  to  leave  his  present  station  for  several  days,  of 
my  intended  absence  ;  and  furnishing  Paddy  with  a  horse, 
he  led  the  way  with  great  rapidity,  and  we  arrived  at  the 
prophet's  concealment  last  night.  I  at  once  approved  of  the 
plan  he  had  formed,  and  as  he  had  already  provided  all  that 
we  conceived  necessary  for  its  execution,  we  set  out  from 
his  cavern  about  two  hours  since,  and,  thank  Providence, 
have  thus  far  succeeded.  The  rest  remains  for  the  night  to 
accomplish.  All  that  I  require  of  you  is,  that  you  will  be 
courageous  and  linn  in  the  part  you  will  have  to  act.  Ton- 
naleuka  provided  a  disguise  for  you  as  well  as  for  me,  and 
as  soon  as  the  people  of  the  garrison  have  gone  to  rest,  if 
we  can  only  make  our  way  out  of  the  fort,  he  will  be  in 
waiting  at  no  great  distance,  with  horses  ready  to  carry  us 
to  safety.  This  is  the  dress  you  are  to  assume." 

He  here  produced,  from  under  his  robe,  the  habiliments 
of  a  squaw. 

"  These,"  he  continued,  "  when  the  proper  time  arrives, 
you  will  throw  over  your  other  cloths,  and  thus  concealed, 
you  will  act  as  my  interpreter  with  the  sentinel,  and  solicit 
his  permission  for  me  to  pass  out  of  the  fort  to  worship,  ac 
cording  to  the  custom  of  tiie  Piantia  chiefs,  beneath  the  red- 
oak  tree,  to  which  you  are  to  guide  me." 

"Alas!"  said  she,  "if  the  sentinel  refuses,  we  shall  ba 
detected,  and  then — oh,  sir,  your  destruction  will  be  inevi 
table.  It  is  better  not  to  attempt  it — it  io,  indeed,  too  dan 
gerous.  Why  should  you  suffer  along  with  me.'  Let  me 


.  own  misfortunes  alone!  It  would  onlv  double 
r  weight  upon  mv  head.,  if  your  ^enerosilv  should  in- 
e  YOU  in  them." 

Tear   nothing,   dearest.   Maria!"    returned    Washington; 
ntinel  should  refuse,  1  shall  have  a  remedy  ;.;  hand, 
need  not  now  trouble  ourselves  with  the  f"ar  of  such   a 
.  for  1  assure   you,  that  if  we  overcome   all  others, 
.  overcome  thai  also.'" 
••Aii!    I  perceive,"  she  exclaimed.  "  that  there  are  indeed 
.icuhies  of  a  perilous  natuie.      The  Governor  may 
•  md  discover  you  here,  and  you  will  be  undone." 
••  lie  knows  me  only/'  said  Washington,  "as  the  charac 
ter  1  now  personate — a  chici  of  the'  Piaiitia  tribe,  come  here 
by  order  of  his  nation,  to  form  a  treaty  of  alliance  with   the 
ch.     Tonnahmka   is   my  interpreter,  and  the  Governor 
i^ieed  to  !_rive  us   nn   audience   to-morrow  morninir  after 
•:fa- 1.      In   the  mean  tune  he  ha<  ijivcn  directions  that   I 
shall    be   entertained   in   this  house  with  all   proper   respecl. 
T     •      .uaw  lialmanna   has   received    her   particular   instruc- 
i':om   the  prophet,  which,  you  are  aware,  she  will   not 
ly  induced  to  disobey.     As   to  the   Governor  iindini* 
:  e,  he  will,  yon  maybe  assured,  return  with  'no  much 

bu  tie  and  noise  from  the  revel.-.,  to  take  me  by  surprise,  and 
I  •  an  easily  resume  the  apartment  that  has  been  alotted  lo 
.  before  he  advances  to  the  hoii.^e.  So,  on  the  whole, 
.  i'Ya/icr,  1  do  not  see  that  1  stand  in  much  danger  of 

ected." 

•  I  trus;  in  God  that  you  will  not  be  detected,''  she  ob- 
ved,  "and  i  believe  the  mailer  is  prudently  arranged.  | 
II  endeavor  lo  do  all  in  mv  power  to  promote  its  suc- 
s;  tor,  alas!  upon  its  success  alone  does  mv  deliverance 
n  a  horrible  destiny  depend.'' 

I'o  hill  suspicion  as  much  as  possible,  and   also  with    the 
\v  ol'  makinu  liiinsi  11    acquainted  with  the  dillereiil  par!.-' 
h"  lorti licatlon,  so  as  to  be  serviceable  to  an\'  expedition 
uiviit  herealter  accompany  ai;'ain.-a   n,  h'1  walked,  during 
a  1  lenn i  in.  opeul\  and  lively  round  tiie  yards  and  houses, 
mlely   inspectino-  the    whole    ci rctimv  allaiion.  ihe    trench, 
ilillerent  redoubts,  and  whatever  aihled  to  the  sire  n^ih  of 


a   place   which   had    now   excited    a    high    degree   oi    terroi 
throughout  ail  ihr  provinces  of  British  America. 

Towards   the    cvcniiiir,  the  re\cllers   on    Grant's    1 1  ill   n 
tu.-ned  to  the  fort,  as  AVashininon   liad   foreseen,  \vitli  nine1! 
noise  ;uid   obstreperous   mirtli,  the  greater  numher  of  then 
being   almost    overcome    with    intoxication.       On   their  a; 
proach.    A\  ashinu;on    retired    to    his    apartment,    \vh.ere    h- 
anxiously  awaiied    the    hour  when  he  mitrht  again   visit   hi" 
heloved,  and  conduct  her  to  safety. 

l)e  \  iiliers  entered  her   apa.rtment  as  soon  as  he  had  di- 
missed  the   soldiers.      llis  spirits  were    under  considerable 
excitement   from  the  wine  and  the  jollity  he    had    been   ju   • 
enjoying,  and    when    he    beheld    Maria   more   than    usual!  \ 
cheerful  and  charming1,  he  fell  a  stron<r  proprensitv  to  break 
through  the  agreement  he  had   made  with  her,  and  to  del;:  . 
no  longer  that  bliss  for  which  he  so  ardently  longed.      lie: 
manner,  however,  more  dignified,  calm,  and   collected  than 
he  had  seen  it  since  she  entered  the  fort,  convinced  him,  lei 
he  was    not    so    intoxicated    as  to  be  totally  incapable  of  r 
flection,  that  this  could  not   be   accomplished  but  bv  the  al 
solute  application  of  perhaps   more  than  even  his  own   pei 
sonal  force  :   and  he  could  not  but  recoiled,  inflamed   as   h 
was    with   both  love  and  wine,  that  the  perpetration   of  :i: 
deed  in  such  a  manner,  would   render  him  detestably  loath 
some  to  her  forever   after,  and   mio'ht    also   be   the  meai;-     ' 
her  instant  destruction. 

After   entering   the  room,  and  saluting  her,  he   sat   c'li/in.; 
at  her  for  several  minutes  in  silence,  absorbed  in  reflections 
of  this  nature.      At   length,  resolving  to  restrain  his  impeti  - 
osity,  he  muttered  to  himself,  but  unconsciously  in  an  and1 
ble    tone,  •'  >,o,  by  heavens  !    1    shall  not    be   guilty  of  sue  i 
lolly.      It' 1  h;n  e  patience,  1   shall   have   her  on  more  ajrre1 
able  term<."      Then,  recollecting  that  she  must   have   hear  i 
him, — "Bewitching  heinjj !   you  have  set  me  mad,  von  hav» 
rendered   me    wild!''    cried   he   aloud — "by   the  sorcery   <i 
your  charms  !      Ah,  bv  heavens!    von  know  not   the   sacr 
rice  I  make  in  delaying  my  bliss!" 

Here  the  blood  gushed   to   his   face,  his  eyes  became  in 
flamed,  and  darted  the,  very  tire  of  passion. 

"Hell  and   fiends!"   he   exclaimed.  "  if  1   must  bear  tlv 


i  in-:      v,  iLDCiiM'.s-.  1  Sn 

ii-rmciM    longer,  it   cannot   he  in  the  overpowermo    presence 
nl  !M  r  bounties  ':" 

."-M>  sa\ mir.  lie  rushed  out  ol' ihe  room,  to  the  yrea!  relief 
(•  Maria,  who  trembled  in  every  limb,  as  she  witnessed  the 
Ji-rrih  itiii'  i'ur\ of  his  lawless  and  wicked"  passions,  which 
t  -id  ihus  <;-aiiicd  such  fearful  ascendancy  o\cr  both  his  rea- 
si  it  ;nni  his  will. 

The   Li'ovcnior  hastened    into    his    own   sitting-room,  and 
Cor  one  or  hvo   ol   his,   officers.  \\illi  xvh'.iin  h"  resolved 
to  heeome  dead  drunk,  in    order    lo    hury  :n  the  irul!  oi'  ine- 
I  !ii;:i:  ni  lh<!  reincnihrance   of    Maria's,   charms,  and.   the    nn 
<_•  I'atilied  tortures  of  passion  which  ihev  excited. 

\\  ashinglon's  ap;ir:inenf  adjoined  that  in  which  these 
I  Venehmen  no\v  ([unfl'ed  their  wine  inquartf'ulls,  and  roan;d 
(nit  their  bruiish  and  clamorous  joviality  in  siiiiniiir  and 
?- \vea  I'liii.1'.  until  ihe  \vliole  house  ri:ni>'  with  the  noise.  At 
linii'th,  although  a;  a  prenv  late  hour,  he  had  the  satisfaction 
to  perceive,  !>v  their  clamor  gradually  becoming  more  i'eeble 
:  ml  interrupted,  that  the  potent  olisprina"  oi'  the  gra|>e  was 
lav  in"'  his  heaviest  hand  upon  them,  and  would  soon  su> 
I  end  their  faculties  altogether.  A  short  time,  indeed,  ac 
complished  this  !, latter.  A  dead  stillness  succeeded  the 
noiocs  and  unbounded  noise  that,  had  so  lately  filled  this 
rcMKui  of  debauchery,  and  Washington  justly  concluded  thai 
Hie  re\ellers  had  sunk  into  Miipor  and  insensibility  upon  the 
--cene  of  their  enjoyment.  And  although  he  conceived  that 
Hie  circmnsiaiice  was  favorable  for  the  enterprise  he  had  on 
hand,  vei  he  could  nol  but  feel  a  panu"  of  mortification  and 
orrow,  when  he  reilected  0:1  the  deifradalion  and  debase 
Micni  ot  human  nature  \\hich  this  scene  presented  to  his 
inn.  mation. 


•  ill-    >• 


CHAPTER   \\  I. 


IT  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock.     Everything  in   the   (iov 

cmor's  house  \vas  still  and  silent  ;is  death:   even  ihc  - 
had  reiired  to  rest,  and.  excepting  those  of  Washington  and 
Maria,  it   is   probable   thai   there  was  not  at  thai   moment   a 
\\  akHul  eye  under  its  rool'. 

Y>  ashin<rton    stole   ca.iitionsly   on!   of  doors,   in    order    to 

view  the  stale  of  mailers  in  other  p;,rts  of  the  a'arrison.     Al 

was  as  motionless  am!  sil  3  heart  could  wish.      The 

red    tramp    of  :nel    at   the    fortress    crnle,  war 

U)  he   heard  ;   and.  alihoii/h    it    \vas   in    the   middle  oi 

.Iul\\the  clouds  ofniirh!  seemed  to  perform  their  office  \\  n! 

much  etfect.  and  the  face   of  nature  was  enveloped  in  a  tol 

ei-a!)!v  thick  mantle  of  darkness. 

liavinof  ascertained  this  favorahl,';  situation  of  ihiiio-s.  liu 
younu"  hero  hem  his  soul  to  the  husiness  for  whicli  lie  iiad 
thus  ventured  into  the  stronghold  of  his  enemies.  He  as 
eended  to  the  chaniher  of  Maria.  He  found  her  wailin; 
with  impatience  for  his  appearance. 

"Miss  Fraxier,"  said  h.e.  "thank  heaven,  the  moment  i 
favorable.      Haste,  lovely  maiden,  throw  on   your   disffuiso. 
Ho  of  o-ood  courage,  and  let  us  jirocc^ed  from   this   abode   ol 
wickedness  and    brutality.      (Jod   will   assuredly   open    ill- 
\vav  tor  us." 


187 

\  minute,  or  two  s'  >  1112 lit. 

m's    ;rm.      They  descended   the  s'airs  slo\viv  and 

;    noise,  and   bold    '  walked   across   the.  area   towards 

• 
••  I  i ,dio  !    w!io  COD  en ,inel. 

ou  arc  tuy  interpreter,  remember,      whispered  \\ash- 
to   Maria, --as  i  do  not  speak  Frene; 

••  \\  c.   arc   friends,''  Jam  to  the   sentinel,   imita- 

>  well  as  she   eonld.  the   pronunciation    and   tone  of  a 

U". 

••  And  where  are  you  iniimr,  my  friends,"  asked  the  sol- 
dier,  "at  this  hour.'  Why  does  your  comrade  remain  dumb, 

s  .'  " 

••This  is  t'ne  Indian  chief,"  sho  replied,  "  that  came  hero 

>-<lay    with    the    Min^'o     prophet,      lie   cannot    speak    your 

inifiiaiie,   and  on  that,  account,  requested  me  to   solicit  your 

permission    for  him  to  pass  out  to    worship  the  (Ireat  Spirit 

•'.ih  the   branches   of  the  red  oak,  as  all  the  duels  ofhis 

nation  have  been  accustomed  to  do  at  this  hour  ol' the  niirht, 

'\\ice  every  moon,  once  in  the  full,  and  once  in  the  wane." 

••  Ami  p'/ay,  Mrs.  Squaw,  what  is  your  business  with  this 
:l  :  Let  him  QO  and  worship  till  he  rots,  if  lie  ple-ises  ; 
ml  lor  von,  my  dame,  I  would  advise  you  rather  to  i£o  to 
sleep,  lie  can  worship  devoutly  enough  without  your  help, 
i  dare  ay.  Turn  back,  misiress,  if  yon  please."  Here 
thf  si  ntinel  pushed  her  somewhat  back  from  him,  while 
she  replied,  in  considerable  fright — 

'•Ah,  sir,  my  irood  soldier!  I  must  indeed  go  with  this 
duel'.  llti  is  a  stringer,  and  does  not  know  wliere  to  find 
a  red  oak  tree — 1  mm-!  ouide  him." 

••  Let  him  take  the  first  tree  he  in:  ets,  "  said  the  sentinel: 
'•  il  \\'dl  answer  the  same  purpose  whether  it  be  oak  or  luck- 
orv.  lid'  as  lor  you,  dame  square-iocs.  I  say  you  >-h:dl  not 
par--  here;  lo-!iit;-hl.  ."No,  by  St.  IVler!  I  shant  risk  disobey- 
inu'  orders  so  lar.  " 

••Sir,"  observed  .Maria,  her-  a<nlation  havin<f  so  much 
increased  tliat  slie  ior<rol  her  assumed  character  ol  tlu'sijiiaw 
ami  t'i  the  surprise  of  the  soldier,  spoke  ^ood  l^rendi — 
"Sir,"  said  she,  "  this  chiel  dechires  that  he  will  not  jjo 
\viilioul  me.  Oh  !  pra\  ,  do  now,  my  nood  frieml,  permit  us 
boil  i  to  pass,  and  heaven  \\  ill  ble>-.  yon  !  ' 


"Tleli!  who  am  you?"  cried  the  sentinel.  "1  protest 
you  .seem  somewhat  too  christianized  fora  squaw.  i5y  the 
holy  mother!  hut  I  believe  there  is  something  wron?  in  thi>; 
a']  air.  Tlh1  (i.ivernor  lias  a  lady  in  his  kerpinir.  i  think  1 
must  keep  you  both  within  the  walls  till  we  see  who  you 
a  iv  I'll  he  broiled,  if  it  would  not  cost  me  a  bullet  in  KIV 
heart,  if  I  allowed  that  lady  to  escape.  Back  to  your  quar 
ters  this,  moment,  or  by  the  devil  !  I  shall  call  the  guard.  " 

••Alas?"  said  the  frightened  Maria  in  English  to  Wash 
ington.  \\liile  the  sentinel  w:is  uttering  this  tirade;  "  we  arp 
discovered,  we  are  ruined  !  Ah  me  !  he  threatens  to  call  the 
liau rd  upon  us  !  " 

At  that  instant  the  sentinel  seized  Maria  rudely  by  the 
arm,  and  endeavored  to  separate  her  from  the  chief,  calling 
out  loudly  for  the  assistance  of  the  truard  ;  but  the  next 
instant  IK;  fell,  with  a  danger  plunged  to  the  hilt  by  the 
whole  of  Washington's  tremendous  force  in  his  heart. 

The  hero  seized  the  trembling  Maria  in  his  arms,  for  ter 
ror  had  rendered  her  unable  to  support  herself,  and  hasten- 
iniT  with  his  beloved  burden  out  of  the  fort,  to  the  spot,  where 
Tonnaleukn,  attended  by  Paddy  Frazier,  had  appointed  to 
wait  with  horses.  Maria  was  in  a  moment  placed  on  one  of 
them,  and  her  strength  beinir  sufficiently  recovered,  Tonua- 
leuka  led  the  way  through  the  woods  ;  and  Washington  and 
Paddy  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  numerous  shots  they  heard  fired  from  different  direc 
tions  round  tiie  fort,  soon  told  them,  as  they  rode  secure! v 
through  the  intricacies  of  the  forest,  that  the  garrison  was 
alarmed,  and  that  the  next  day  there  would  in  all  probability 
be  a  hot  pursuit  made  after  the  sweet,  fugitive  who  had  thus 
escaped  from  the  fan<rs  of  a  tyrant. 

About  an  hour  and  a  half  brought  them  to  Tonnalenka's 
cavern,  iroin  whence  Paddy  removed  the  horses  to  a  close 
dii)<jle  at  some  distance,  for  the  sake  of  pasturage  and  con 
cealment. 

Some  slight  refreshment,  and  the  cnncioiisness  of  secu 
rity  from  the  power  of  the  tyrant  who  had  threatened  the 
rum  of  her  happiness,  together  with  she  relief  from  despond 
ing  reflections,  which  the  hurry  and  excitement  of  her  flight 
had  produced,  now  restored  Maria  to  a  train  of  pleasing  and 


fllK     WIU)KR\KS.S.  18'J 

grii-'ful  ideas,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  expressing  her 
st'n-;e  D!'  (lie  happiness  she  felt  in  being  under  the  protection 
oi  "ue  fries, ds,  and  of  the  obligations  she  was  under  to  the 
brave  youth,  whose  prudence  and  heroism  alone  could  have, 
wiiii  the  blessing  of  providence,  effected  her  deliverance. 

•Ah!  Colonel  Washington,"  said  she,  "to  you  I  owe 
more  obligation  and  gratitude  than  I  can  express.  " 

••Miss  Frazier,"  he  replied,  "to  the  Almighty  I  owe 
th:::iks  that  he  has  made  me  the  humble  instrument  of  pre- 
MTvinjr  the  loveliest  of  his  creatures  from  wretchedness.  I 
ou<:  these  thanks  for  this  never-to-be-forgotten  blessing,  even 
on  my  own  account;  for,  alas!  had  that,  son  of  barbarity 
HI  veeded  in  his  designs  against  you — never,  never  from 
t!i  it  day  should  I  have  known  comfort  in  this  world.  Miss 
F:  Mzier,  I  have  told  you  often  with  what  ardor  and  sincerity 
1  love  vou,  how  much  my  happiness  in  life  depends  upon 
a  union  with  you  ;  and  although  vou  have  not  thought  pro 
per  to  encourage  my  passion,  by  affording  me  one  single 
whisper  in  its  approval,  yet  I  have  persisted  to  love  you, 
ahd  even  10  look  forward  with  a  fond  hupe  to  the  day  when 
von  might  be  brought  to  afford  me  some  return  of  affection, 
ami  perhaps  receive  me  as  the  happy  partner  •<)!' your  fate." 

lie  here  paused  for  a  moment,  Mis  heart  was  full;  but 
Maria  appearing  too  much  affected  to  reply,  he  soon  ve- 
sMiied — 

"Ah.  tiiiiik.  beloved  of  my  soul  !  bow  much  your  present 
s, liialion  requires  a  protector — how  absolutely  it  is  necess- 
ary  that  you  ,:.hou!d  leave  this  law!e-s  Wilderness,  where 
men  of  untamed,  and  licentious  passions  rule  every  thing 
iM'fordincr  to  th.-ir  wicked  fancies  and  caprices,  unrestrained 
by  cither  the  laws  or  the  opinions  of  civilized  society.  For 
\our  own  sake, — for  you  are  now  become  the  mark  ajjainst 
•,  hdiii  the  violence  of  their  rullian  passions  will  be  diiec- 
;  •(! — for  the  sake  of  that  angelic,  purity  which  is  here  ex 
posed  to  the  attacks  of  fiends — for  the  sake  of  your  own 
i  appincss,  the  rum  oi  which  is  pursued  with  barbarous  avid- 
iv  by  lh<'  tyrants  of  these  \vibls, —  llv  with  me  to  the  pro- 
•!ction  of  society  and  laws.  (Jive  me — me,  who  will  other 
wise  never  enjoy  this  world  with  satisfaction,  the  light  to 
'lecome  your  protector,  and  to  secure  you  an  asylum  where 


ran   WILDI  RM:PS. 


none    will  dare  to  molest   you,   am 
love  mav  al.-o  live  in   security  and  con 

"My  brave,   my  generous   pro;!  "i     '. 

can  1  answ<  r  ;.  on  !      Would  to  (-»ccl 
your  kindnc;  s,  lhal  \  could  show  ; 

' 

!   nr 

valued,  my  most,   admired  friend,  you  ask    H 

my  power  to  give — what   is  not  mi::e   to  give" — she 

checked  hersi  !f  for  a  moment,  and  then  resumed — "ye?;;  ! 

will   intrust   liiee    wi'h  the  secret  of  my  hear!.      I  ov 

ihis — all!    wha.t   do    1    ntft    owe   ihee! — bul    nn    < 

thru  shall   have.      Perhaps  1  have  withheld  it  loo  lon<>:.  and 

thereby  encouraged  ihee   to  entertain    hopes    which,  i 

sorry  am  i  to  say.  must  end   in  disappointment — mv  ; 

sir,  is  another's." 

"Another's!"  exclaimed  Washington,  s!a2'<2'erinir  back.. 
and  fora  moment  turning  pale;  but  soon  the  violence  ol 
the  shock,  severe  as  it  was.  yielded  to  the  native  energy  o. 
his  heroic  soul;  a  moment's  struirtrlc  took  place,  and  lit 
recovered  his  composure,  although  not  his  ease  of  mind. 

••  I  am  to  blame,  sir."   .-he   continued,   "for  not    revealiiu 


\vas  ungenerous   enough    to    fear    tin    C'fl'i  c-l  i  <  :' 
between  vou  and  the   youili  who  had  jr-i'med   my  aiieclion.-- 
helbre  I  saw  you,  for,  believe  me,  that,  ou.n  '-.vlu'ii  \-ou  jlrs' 
sought,  my  lieaal,  it  was  not  mine  to  give  you." 

••Then,  Maria,"  said  Washington,  vvhh  yreat  calnm^s. 
"I  know  my  fate — it  is  10  linger  out  a  life  in  this  world,  a,'- 
long  as  Providence  rnav  jilea^e  to  cominue,  i;  here,  wiihoir 
seeking,  without  hojtinir,  without  earinir  for  personal  hajipi- 
ness.  But  I  ;:m  resign;  (i.  It  is  the  will  of  Providence. 
My  soul,  I  know,  shall  never  sink  under  any  calamity, 
since  it  does  not  now  sink  under  this,  which  is  the  severe*; 
i  can  ever  experience.  But,  Miss  Fra.zier,  alihouoh  I  car 
submit  without  murmnrinir  either  at  you.  or  at  Prevideii'-e. 
io  this  forlornness  of  mv  own  fate;  although  I  can  submit 
to  part  with  those  blissful  hopis  which  for  more  than 
eighteen  moiiihs.  have  formed  the  jrreat  solace  of  mv  hie 


THE     WlLOKKNKrf.S.  191 

the  hopes  of  \  ou  and  happiness — yet  your  welfare,  believe 
me,  is  as  great  an  object  of  solicitude  with  me  as  ever.  I 
therefore  nun  in  repent  an  otl'er  I  once  beiore  made  to  you, 
tlint  YOU,  anil  all  your  friends — and  it  must  be  remembered 
that  from  this  date  your  friends  will  bo  no  longer  safe  in 
this  neighborhood  —  should  remove  to  \iro-inia,  where  I 
shall  ensure  to  settle  tiiem  in  comfort,  safety,  and  respect 
ability." 

She  was  about  to  replv,  when  the  sound  of  footsteps 
hastily  advancing  alon^  the  dark  passage  of  the  cavern,  ar 
rested  their  at'emion.  in  a  moment  Doctor  Killbreath  ap 
peared,  and  without  eeremonv  aedressed  Tonnaleuka  : 

"  Your  petition  has  been  granted,  father;  but  it  only 
prolongs  Captain  Adderly's  life  nil  Monday  at  noon.'' 

"Alas!  what  of  Captain  Axlderly !"  exclaimed  Maria, 
••  where  is  he  f.  oh,  tell  me — tell  me  ':  for  heaven's  sake,  what 
is  to  become  ol  mv  Charles!" 

••At  the   prophet's 'request,"    ic]  doctor  inconsid 

erately,  ''he  lias  been  respited  from  the  flames  till  Monday 
— but  then  1  fear  that  his  death  will  be  inevitable.  The 
Indians,  with  great  reluctance,  granted  him  this  reprieve. 
The  fagots  are  already — " 

Mul  he  said  no  more,  for  that  moment  Maria  fell  lifeless 
to  the  lloor.  Washington  tiew  to  her  and  lifted  her  in  his 
arms.  She  breathed  not — she  was  deadly  pale,  and  the 
only  simi  of  animation  siie  displayed  was  a  slight  quivering 
motion  observable  in  her  lips — those  lips  that  had  lately 
been  of  the  most  iinitinir  ruby  hue.  and  that  countenance 
on  which  e\ery  female  charm  had  delighted  to  dwell,  were 
now  destitute  of  their  graces,  and  ghastly,  as  if  the  spirit 
which  had  imparted  their  loveliness,  had  indeed  lied  from 
its  possessor,  and  left  her  numbered  with  the  dead.  VVash- 
mij'ion  carried  her  to  a  bed  to  which  the  agitated  Tonna- 
leuka  conducted  him.  The  soul  of  the  hero,  as  he  bent 
over  her,  and  beheld  the  baud  of  dentil  thus  apparently 
upon  her,  lell  the  most  acute  pan.'.;'  »>l  sorrow  he  was  ever 
doomed  to  experience,  and  moistened  her  livid  cheek*  with 
the  last  tears  ilia!  \\ere  ever  seen  to  fdl  from  his  eves. 

The  most  judicious  menus  within  reach  were  applied  for 
her    ivcm  erv,  and  in    abmi!  seven  or  ci^'ht    minutes    ihe    or- 


192  TIIK    \viLm;ii.\!:*.s. 

gnus  of  vitality  beorin  to  resume  their  function?.  She  irave 
a  Jeep  sigh,  and  respiration  commenced;  the  iluid  of  life 
a  or.  in  circulated  through  her  veins,  and  the  beautiful  hue 
of  her  countenance  be^an  to  return. 

"Thank  m\  Clod!"'  cried  Washington,  who  first  per 
ceived  these  indications  :;f  !vr  restoration,  ••  thank  my  Clod, 
she  will  vet  lu  e  !" 

"Thank  thee.  thank  ihee.  oh.  (ireat  Spirit  of  tho  uni 
verse!"  si! id  Tonnaleuka.  who  had  been  extremelv  dis 
tressed  during  the  whole  scene,  u Oh,  thou  who  restores! 
lids  snff'erinir  child  \-<  us.  do  thou  support  lier  under  the 
tri;ds  thou  hast  brought  upon  her!  If  the  youth  of  her 
choice  mus;  die  this  awfn!  deaih.  d^  ih'a;  enable  !,er  10  bear 
the  shock." 

She   was    now   aisle  to   ariicuhite,  bn*  it  was  in  a  in- 
wild  and   in  .      Th»'   i>e"!rninLr    tide  of  life    brought 

i    when    she    spoke,    she 
spoke  only  in  delirium. 

"Charles  .\dderjy!''  were  the  first  sounds  she  uttered. 
"<)h,  the  savaircs!'"  she  coniiniipd,  '•  thev  have  consumed 
irf  love!  T;;ke  me!  take  me!  !mrn  me  with  him!  Ah! 
I  feel  mvself  in  llauies:  inv  hear!  is  already  burning!  I 
am  cdad  of  ii  !  (^hnrles,  in>  beio->ed,  our  sorrows  will 
soon  end  !'' 

Here  she  relapsed  n  T,  anil   appeared  to  be  a^ain 

f'1!!!!;^  into  a  state  of  insensibility.  This,  however,  con 
tinued  hit  a  few  momej'.U'.  when  lier  i'renzy  nMurnc'd  with 
:is  much  violence  as  before. 

Doctor  Killbreath  now  judiciously  proposed  to  extract 
some  blood  from  her  arm,  which  was  soon  accomplished, 
and  sborilv  afterwards  she  became  tranquil,  her  horror- 
struck  imagination  became  less  tortured,  and  reason,  piety, 
and  resignation,  resumed  their  seat  in  her  soul. 

Washington  now  felt  relief  from  the  terrors  which  had 
during  die  lime  of  her  suspended  faculties,  and  her  subse 
quent  i'ren/y.  almost  overpowered  even  his  manly  heart. 
lie  now  saw  who  was  the  object  of  her  alleciion.  He  had 
never  before  dreamed  of  it. 

"Captain  .\dderly,"  thought  he,  "alas!  it  is  so;  she 
loves  him.  Tier  happiness  depends  upon  his  welfare. 


IHK     \V  M.DfcKNESS.  193 

Happy  Adderly!  at  least  thou  hast  been  happy,  for  thou 
hast  boc-n  loved  by  suc'i  a  bc-ini?.  Oh,  Maria,  Maria!  how 
I  could  have  cherished  thee  in  mv  bosom!  But  though 
thou  art  never  to  bo  mine,  unrest  thou  be  happy!" 

He  no\v  took  Doctor  Killbreath  apari.  conversed  with 
him  for  some  minutes,  then  rehmiinj  -n  Maria — 

';I  must  leave  von  hastih',  Miss  Fra/ier,"  said  he.  "I 
am  </lad  to  see  ihat  vou  are  recovering.  Support  your 
trials  with  fortitude,  and  may  the  Cod  of  heaven  yet  restore 
\  on  to  luippiuess.  Fan  \vo!l:  in}'  dutr  calls  me  elsewhere." 

"  Farewell,  o-onerou-'.  benevolent  Washington!"  said  she, 
holding  out  her  hand  to  him.  Tie  could  not  refrain  from 
pressinir  it,  for  the  first  time  he  had  ever  taken  that  liberty, 
to  his  burning  lips,  while  she  repeated,  "Farewell,  noble- 
hearted  young  man!  I  never  shall,  forget  thy  kindness." 

He  took  one  look  at  her  beautiful  countenance.  He 
dared  not  trust  himself  with  a  second;  but  hastened,  with 
great  agitation,  from  her  apartment:  rind,  followed  by  Dr. 
Killhreath,  left  the  cnvem. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Farewell,  thou  fair  day  ;   thou  green  earth,  and  ye  skies, 

Now  gay  with  the  bright  sotting  sun  ; 
Farewell  loves  and  friendships,  ye  ((ear  tender  ties, 

Our  race  of  existence  is  run  ! 
Thou  ^rim  king  of  terrors  !   thou  life's  gloomy  foe, 

Go  frighten  thp  coward   amij^ive  ; 
(So  teach  t.hrni  to  tremble,  fell    tyrant  but  know, 

No  terrors  hast  thou  for  the   brave  !  lii'RNH. 

THK  reader  will  recollect  that  in  tbe  account  we  gave  of 
the  battle  of  Braddock's  Field,  we  mentioned  that  Charles 
Adderly  slew  a  savage  when  in  tbe  act  of  levelling  his  rifle 
:U  Washington  at  the  distance  of  only  a  few  feet  from  that 


194  MIT.     WU.l>f.KNi-3S. 

officer,  by  which  means  the  intended  (loudly  aim  failed  to 
accomplish  its  purpose.  This  savage  happened  to  be  a  hero 
of  great  repute  among  the  Caughnewago  Indians.  Several 
of  them  perceived  his  (all,  trave  u  howl  of  lamentation,  and 
instantly  resolved  to  seize  his  destroyer,  in  urd:;r  to  devote 
him  to  the  flames,  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  memory  of  iheir 
slaughtered  hero.  They  accordingly  succeeded  in  making 
him  prisoner;  the  attention  oi  the  British  being  at  that  time 
principally  occupied  in  preserving  Braddock  irom  failing  in 
to  their  hands. 

When  the  battle  was  over,  the  Caughnewago  chiefs,  after 
a  short  consultation  among  themselves  concerning  what 
should  be  done  with  Charles  and  another  prisoner,  a  Virgin 
ian  named  Hartley,  \vho  had  also  killed  a  chief,  and  whom 
they  were  also  resolve;!  to  sacrifice,  determined  to  remove 
them  while  yet  in  their  power,  to  a  distance  from  fort  Du 
Quesne,  lest  the  French  might  claim  them  in  the  European 
manner  as  prisoners  of  war,  and  disappoint  them  of  their 
revenge. 

Twenty  warriors,  therefore,  set  off  as  soon  as  a  i'avorable 
opportunity  offered  with  these  prisoners  across  the  river, 
and  proceeded  towards  the  head  waters  of  Chartier's  Creek, 
where  they  intended  to  hold  a  council,  in  or<'or  to  condemn 
their  victims  to  tin;  flames  in  the  regular  manner.  During 
the  march  the  pri.-'oners  weie  stiipped  almost  naked,  tin  ir 
hands  were  lied  behind  them,  and  they  \\ere  subject  to  va 
rious  kinds  of  barbarous  treatment.  They  were  sometime:. 
whipped  forward  with  rods,  and  at  other  times  goaded  with 
sharp-pointed  sticks,  till  the  blood  trickled  down  their  side> 
and  backs  ;  while  their  tormentors  endeavored,  by  every  spe 
cies  of  wild  and  frantic  exultation,  to  mnrtifv  their  feelii:o- 
with  an  acute  sense  of  their  degraded  and  wretched  situa 
tion. 

They  halted    for   the  fWght,   upon   the   margin   of  a  smal 
.stream  about  ten  miles  from  the  field   of  battle.      Here  hav 
ing  tied  Charles  and  his  fellow  prisoner,  back   to  back,  the\ 
continued  to  dance  round  them  in  triumph,  singing  songs  of 
victory,  and  claim, ring  forth  yells  of  exultation  f;>i  upward 
of  an  hour.      They  then  feasted   upon  a  deer  they  had   kil. 
ed,  a  large  slice  of  which  they  threw  upon  the  crass  to  eac1 


i  HE    \vn.UEKNi:ss.  1!> 

of  the  captives,  but  the  minds  of  the  latter  were  too  much 
overpowered  with  a  st  lue  of  thei.  horrible  situation  to  per 
mit  them  to  partake  of  nourishment. 

Durinsr  this  nwiul  ni^ht,  what  did  Charles  Adderiy  not 
sillier  both  in  mind  and  body?  ^  ith  a  lacerated  frame  lying 
nearU  n^ked  stretched  upon  the  ground  in  the  open  air,  with 
his  baek  ;.losely  bound  to  that  of  an  unfortunate  bcinir  m 
llie  same  melancholy  condition,  he  suffered  a  degree  of  pain 
whicli  notwithstanding  all  the  weariness  and  exhaustion  o!' 
his  frame, prevented  him  from  enjoying  the  slightest  slumber. 

But  the  pangs  of  his  body  fell  infinitely  short  of  those  ol 
his  mind-  An  absolute  certainly  of  the  most  awful  fate  that 
ce.uld  befall  humanity  stared  him  in  the  face  ;  and  often,  not 
withstanding  all  his  attempts  to  exercise  fortitude,  made  him 
shudder  and  sweat  with  the  agony  of  the  reflection.  And 
then  his  Maria — his  tender,  his  faithful,  his  lovely  Maria,  the 
delight  of  his  eyes,  the  joy  of  hi.-;  soul,  the  inspher  of  the 
sweetest  throbs  of  his  heart,  and  the  s\\eeiest  hopes  of  his 
fancy — alas  !  to  her  he  could  not  bid  a  last  farewell,  of  her 
beauties  he  could  no!  take  a  parting  olance,  \\hu-h  In*  soul 
misrht  cherish  and  brood  upon  with  rapture,  as  it  took  its 
lii'dit  from  his  consuming  bodv  ! 

Alas  !  she — pure,  harmless,  lovely,  helpless  and  defence 
less,  might  also  be  in  the  hands,  and  subjected  to  the  insults 
and  tortures  o[  the  merciless  savages,  who  would  now  be 
lit  loose  in  all  their  wantonness  of  barbarity,  to  wreak  their 
vengeance  upon  every  individual  of  British  origin  that  should 
come  wilhin  their  ]>o,ver!  And  she — he  groaned  deeply  as 
the  idea  passed  through  his  mind' — and  she,  alas,  was  imme 
diately  wi'.hin  their  power,  the  power  of  fiends,  (he  mentally 
exclaimed,)  who  will  neither  regard  her  sex,  nor  hei  youth, 
nor  her  innocence,  nor  her  loveliness  !  ah,  my  Maria!  What 
can  thy  Charles  do  for  tliee?  in  bonds  here  himself,  and  in 
wretchedness — Oh.  if  I  could  bear  thy  misfortunes  and  my 
own  together,  how  should  1  rejoice!  Oh  heaven!  wilt  thou 
not  protect  her  whose  purity  is  so  like  thy  own  .'  But  why 
do  1  rave;  perhaps,  thou  dos.t  protect  her — perhaps,  even 
amidst  these  disastrous  times,  S!K>  is  safe — oh!  to  obtain 
thai  assurance,  how  hohilv  would  1  face,  how  gladly  would 
I  endure  Hie  fiercest  torments  the  sava»'es  can  indict  upon 
me  •" 


19(1  I  UK     \VII.DKK\KSS. 

Early  the  next  morning  this  unhappy  young  man  was 
compelled  to  resume  his  journey  for  about  ten  miles  fur 
ther,  when  the  Indians  again  halted  at  a  place  where  rive  or 
six  wigwams  were  inhabited  by  some  squaws  and  children. 
It  was  a  small  glade  of  somewhat  romantic  aspect,  surroun- 
df-.'i  with  sloping  hills,  and  having  a  pleasant  stream  trickling 
along  its  western  border. 

Here  a  feast  was  again  prepared  for  the  partv,  and  the 
prisoners  were  once  more  olfered  nourishment,  of  which 
they  refused  to  partake.  When  the  feast  was  over,  the  sa 
chem  Taksuma  assembled  the  warriors  in  council  to  condemn 
the  prisoners,  who  were  placed  on  the  ground  before  them. 
Charles  Adderly's  sentence  was  the  first  to  ho  passed,  pre 
vious  to  which  Taksuma  spoke  as  follows  : 

"  Brothers — thank  Maneto  !  We  have  inliicted  a  sweet 
and  glorious  revenge  upon  the  oppressors  of  our  fathers. 
These  oppressors  are  proud — ;hey  iliink  to  grasp  the  whole 
earth.  Thev  robbed  and  murdered  our  fathers,  and  took 
more  land  from  them  than  thev  can  use.  That  land  they 
imjustlv  hold  to  this  day;  yet  they  are  not  satisfied.  Thev 
thought  to  rob  us  too,  Caughnewagoes  !  They  thought  that 
we  had  hearts  like  the  timid  deer,  and  that  they  had  no 
more  to  do  than  to  show  their  faces,  and  we  should  ily. 

"  Brothers — they  say  that  the  mere  treading  upon  our 
ground  makes  it  theirs,  and  they  think  that  wherever  we 
see  the  prints  of  their  i'eet  we  should  abandon  the  country. 
They  came  against  us  with  many  men,  strongly  armed,  and 
we  were  few  ;  but  the  Great  Spirit  taught  us  how  to  con 
quer  them.  I  do  not  think  that  they  will  soon  again  be  so 
foolish  as  to  disturb  us,  for  they  have  been  taught  a  lesson. 

"  Brothers — we  lost  some  of  our  people  by  their  steel. 
Hillsamasb,  who  had  fought  thirty  battles,  and  taken  three 
hundred  and  fifteen  scalps  from  our  enemies,  has  been  slain. 
That  man  before  you  slew  him.  I  saw  him  with  my  eyes. 
They  grew  dim.  The  sparkles  of  horror  ilashed  before 
them  as  the  horrid  steel  ran  through  the  body  of  my  friend. 

"  Brothers — he  is  gone  to  Maneto.  But  we  must  avenge 
his  death.  Are  ye  for  kindling  the  flames?" 

The  assembly  signified  their  assent  by  a  loud  and  unani 
mous  acclamation,  and  six  warriors  were  ordered  to  prepare 


IHK     WILDERNESS. 

v  ooH  for  the  execution,  which  was  to  take  place  on  the  third 
hoi! \'  afterwards. 

The  other  prisoner  -was  soon  also  condemned,  and  both 
were  to  be  bound  to  the  same  stake,  and  to  endure  the  ilamos 
r. 

( 'harles  had  now  become  resiirned  to  liis  i'ato.  His  course 
;  iron<jh  life  had,  at  its  commencement,  and  i'or  a  lonir  period 
afterwards,  promised  to  be  prosperous  and  happy.  _Nav,  it 
had  been  so.  lie  had  enjoyed  happiness,  the  t'a\or  of  the 
public,  the  aiiection  of  his  friends,  and  tin- love  of  the  sweet- 
•  <;  !,  in  \lc  his  fountrv  had  ever  produced.  It  is  true  his 
career  had  beeii  short,  and  had,  especially  of  late  years,  been 
i  ccasionally  beset  with  trouble,'-  and  perplexities  ;  but  this 
!  it'er  period  had  also  been  the  time  of  his  (jreatest  rapture 
nd  joy.  ile  had  lived  lonir  in  a  lew  years  ;  and  now.  if 
his  hopes  and  enjoyments  were,  to  bo  cut  o;i  in  their  very 
.n.  \}\<  fears,  his  griefs,  his  pains,  his  sorrows,  would 
also  be  annihilated.  The  former  mi<rht  return  to  him  with 
tenfold  increase  of  enjoyment,  but  he  had  "Teat  and  conso 
ling  reason  to  believe  that  the  latter  never  should. 

\V  bile  he  was  fortifying  his  mind  with  these  considera- 
ions  for  the  endurance  of  the  last  terrible  scene,  which  he 
every  mmute  expected  to  conimence.  he  perceived  a  white 
man  hastening  down  the  hill  that  rose  to  the  northward. 
The  savaors  raised  an  exclamation  of  jov,  as  it'  tliev  had 
n ov.-  obinincd  n  diin!  \  ic'.nn  for  the  ir  vengeance,  and  Charles 
shuddered  wii-'ii  he  distinguished  the  approaching1  stranger, 
whom  h^  believed  to  be  runniuo-  voluntarily  into  the  |aws  ol' 
late,  to  be  Dr.  Killbreath. 

The  doctor,  however,  advanced  fearlessly  fmward;  and 
holding  out  th<>  wampum  of  Tonnaleuka,  he  informed  the 
Indians  that  he  was  a  messenger  from  the  prophet,  and 
was  immediately  received  with  an  obeisance  and  a  shout  of 
welcome. 

lie  their  advanced  to  the  sachem  Taksutna,  who  was 
poinie  !  out  to  him,  and  delivered  to  him  the  prophet's  peti 
tion,  according  to  his  instructions. 

Taksuma  immediately  called  upon  the  warriors  to  be  at- 
tenl  i\  e. 

"  fasten."  said  he.  "  brothers,  to  the  desire  of  Tonnaleuka, 


the  holv  prophet  of  Maneto.  The  prisoner  Adderly  is  not 
prepared  to  die.  In  sacrificing  him.  it  is  only  the  body,  not 
the  spirit,  we  wish  to  punish.  Maneio  will  he  offended  if 
we  deprive  him  of  this  man's  soul,  wliieh  is  not  now  lit  to 
go  into  his  presence. 

'•  Brothers,  Tonnaleuka,  the  jireat  prophet,  who  declares 
the  will  of  Maneto,  asks  the  quarter  of  a  moon  of  longer 
life  i'or  tliis  man,  that  this  spirit  may,  in  that  time,  prepare 
itself  for  the  company  of  the  (ireat  Father  who  made  it. 
Brothers,!  think  we  dare  not  refuse  this  to  the  words  of  the 
prophet,  for  ihc  prophet's  words  are  ihe  words  of  the  in1  eat. 
Maneto." 

The  oTcater  number  assented  with  a  voice  of  applause; 
but  there  was  a  chief,  named  liemalsch,  ihe  brother  of  the 
slain  Ilillsamash,  who  appeared  discontented  with  the  deci 
sion.  Taks'.ima  asked  him  to  sav  why  he  dissented  from 
the  \otce  of  ihe  prophet. 

"  Brothers,"  said  lie,  addressing  the  assembly,  "I  respect 
the  prophe;.  because  [    \vorship  and   adore  .Maneio.      I  v. 
therefore  join   my  assent  to  yours  to  allow  the  destroyer   of 
my  brother  seven  days  iiiii'jfer  to   breathe  the  air  and  to  s.  >• 
the  sun. 

"  But,  brother,  hear  ine  ;  1  grieve  much  for  Ilillsamash, 
and  ionir  e:\ceedingh  to  feast  mv  ey<  a  with  the  sacrijice  <>f 
the  man  who  slew  him.  Is  it  not  natural  ?  lie  was  a  bro 
ther  who  iv/ieeted  honor  upon  our  parentage,  i  could  shed 
tears  i'or  him,  hut  1  am  resolved  ne\er  to  shed  tears  for  an\- 
thing.  That  prisoner  deprived  me  of  him,  and  my  in  ; 
shall  not  feel  at  ease  till  1  see  his  destruction.  The  ,'irief  ot 
my  soul  shall  disappear  and  waste  away,  as  the  llames  waste 
the  lle.sh  from  the  hones  of  that  man,  but  not  till  then. 

"  Brothers,  I  shall  not  oppose  the  desire  of  Tonnaleuka  : 
but  lest  my  indignation  against  the  destroyer  of  Ilillsamash 
should  not  permit  me  to  bear  to  see  him  live  the  time  re 
quested  by  the  prophet,  1  shall  go  westward  to  hunt,  but 
shall  return  on  the  day  of  sacrifice  to  delight  my  soul  witli 
beholding  the  torments  o-f  the  victim." 

So  saying,  he  looked  in  Charles's  lace,  gave  a  yell  of  c,\- 
ecration,  and  hurried  from  the  assembly,  followed  by  three 
others,  who  felt  in  a  manner  similar  t<>  himself. 


ion 

[01     K  ill!1:-' 

(   '  '.  Ml'O- 

:;ii •;!   for  : 
>•  Til 

for  a  very  tn  *  took  place  at  nnr 

•  nerdaY,  and  which  will  ds  atti  m  for 

a  lew  days.  if  h"  ran  •  in  tlr.it  i'';.-!!ie.-s  oefore 

your  reprieve;  is  expired.  !  think  ron." 

"  What,  sir.  has,  tak<  :  •  '  "  asked 

or  he  dreaded  thai  something  h;:d  be- 
n  Maria. 

"  Why,  sir,"  replied  the:  doctor,  "vl  think  I  mav  as  well 
trll  you  the  \vhole  inaiter;  your  heat  out  eiu  u^:  to 

hear  had  neus.  I  hone,  although  1  know  it  will  try  \ou  :: 
li;de.  In  short,  captain,  the  commander  at  !V.i  (^tu.'sne  sent 
out  a  parly  of  troops,  who  attacked  our  house,  l>o',md  ihe 
oM  man  and  Aivhv  with  ropes,  ;'l\u!;!v  and  1  were  from 
iionn  '•  f;id  \\-oinaii  and  N;ii:r-}  out  of  their 

\vits.  am!  carried  oi]'— .Mari1!,  '  -n; — " 

'•  .Maria  !"  exclaimed  ( 'hai'h^s,  '-carried  (.11'  to  Du  Que.sne ! 
Mas  !  oh.  doctor,  1  could  curse,  eternally  curse  the  villains  ! 
Kut  \vha.t — oh.  in  the  name  oi'  heaven,  "whai  can  I  do  for 
her.'" 

••  \otliin<r,  sir,"'  said  the,  doctor  calmly,  although  he  him- 
on  t!ic  sulijeel.  "hut  then.1  are  hands  af  work 
lor  !  or  rescue  more  powerful  than  yours  can  he.  I  trust 
they  will  '  .  fnl.1" 

'•Oh,  heaven  gran!  that  tiiev  may!"  said  Charles;  ••';;!. 
ah.  these  hotids  restrain  me.  Oh  (Joel!  whv  am  I  thus, 
when  my  heart's  irea.-ure  is  in  distress  f.  Oh  lieavcn,  is 
I!M  re  to  he  no  end  to  my  misfortunes  .'" 

"  !'c  calm,  captain,"  paid  ihe  doctor;  "had  I  kno\\n  you 
dd  havr  :  mailer  so  violeirly,  I  should  not  have 

inf'irmcd  you  of  it.'' 

'•'i'alk  not  to  me  of  feelhi'!'  violciMlv  !"  cried  Charles, 
"(•'leal  (-'in!!  \\ha.t  m  hea\ai!  or  earth  could  make  mo  feel 
violently  if  this  could  not  !  Ohdod!  olid'od!  that  I  could 
act.  violeinlv  too1  ilien  thtse  hell- hound-'  of  i)u  (.'uesne 
-'hould  .;.(;o:;  !•  rn  wha!  it  \;  to  inolesi  innocf-nce  and  loveli- 


ness  like  hers.  Talk  not  io  me  of  feeling  violently.  TMOM- 
who  cannot  feel  as  I.  do,  have  never  ioveil  as  I  do.  Ah,  no  ! 
never  one  loved  as  1  do.  Oh,  Lord  of  in  ore,  y  !''  cried  lie, 
fervently  lifting  his  hands  mid  eves  towards  heaven,  "  savo 
her,  save  her,  and  lot  me  perish  !" 

Here  the  Indians  assembling  round  him,  inquired  what 
was  the  matter.  The  dor-tor  informed  them  that  he  had 
hoard  bad  news  from  one  of  his  friends  whom  he  loved  ten 
derly,  and  that  ho  was  thus  ofivinir  way  to  hi.<  grief  for  the 
misfortune. 

•'  Hear  me,  brother, "  said  Taksuma  to  the  doctor.  '•  I 
thor.iriit  not  that  the  white  men  loved  eaeh  other  so  well, 
Tin>  man  bears  his  own  fate  wiihout  complaining;  but  he 
rai_>vs.  even  to  madness,  when  h<'  hears  of  a  friend  being  in 
dist'.vs; — a;nl  distre-s  which  cannot  ne  more  fearful  than  his 
own.  Are  there  many  of  your  people  of  this  temper  .' " 

'•  Many  umonu  us  feel  much  for  the  distresses  of  their 
Ineiids,"  replied  the  doctor;  '-but,  there  are  few,  I  believe, 
who  carry  their  feelings  to  such  excess  as  Captain  Adderly 
does  on  this  occasion.  " 

"1  honor  him  for  it,"  said  the  sachem.  ••  and  shall  take 
care  that  he  be  not  tortured  as  the  friends  of  Iliilsamali  de 
sire  he  .-mould,  before,  his  death.  He  must  be  sacrficed,  for 
he  has  slain  a  warrior,  and  is  sentenced  ;  but  we  need  not 
toiture  him.  Neither  the  red-hot,  iron,  nor  the  burning  brand 
shall  ho  lifted  against  him." 

The  doctor  took  care,  in  proper  terms,  to  give  due  praise 
!o  this  manifestation  of  the  sachem's  clemency,  and  inform 
ed  him  i hat  he  knew  the  prophet  Tonnaleuka  would  esteem 
him  much  on  it*  account. 

One  of  the  chief's  now  informed  Taksuma,  that  the  hour 
was  (Mmc  when  the  other  prisoner  should  be  executed.  Or 
ders  were  therefore  given  to  have  him  led  forth  to  the  stake. 
This  unfortunate  man  took  a  last  farewell  of  Adderly. 

"  1  <ro  before  you,"  said  he,  "to  the  awful  doom.  Hut 
this  is,  perhaps,  a  privilege  as  my  sufferings  will  be  the 
sooner  ended.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die  ;  but  the  manner  is 
terrible.  Would  to  God  that  these  barbarians  would  send  a 
bullet  through  my  heart  ;  they  might  then  consume  my  dead 
carcass  as  they  please.  But  I  must  submit  to  the  tortuie.;. 


:  t!  L      WIl.DURNKSS.  201 


though   my  soul  shudders   within  mo,    yd   1   will  biave   it 

out.  "     . 

••  Farewell,  Hartley,  said  Charles,  almost,  suffocated  with 
o'nef  and  horror.  Your  late  is,  indeed,  preferable  to  mine. 
Si>\vn  thvs  less  of  such  mea'a!  torture  us  I  shall  endure  is 
no  tnl!in_f  consideration.  May  (Jod  t-ike  you  to  himself!" 

The/  then  cordially  shook  hands,  ;\nd  Hartley  moved  to- 
wirds  tin1  stake.  He  stopped  suddenly,  however,  when  he 
was  a  lew  yards  distant,  and  beckoned  Doctor  Kiilbreath 
towards  him. 

"  \  ou  are  a  stranger  io  mo.  sir."  said  'he  victim,  "but 
V'o  ;  are  a  Christian  and  a  Briion,  and  your  countenance  be 
speaks  humanity.  I  think,  theteforo,  thai  you  will  not  re- 
hoe  to  ijraiit  an  easily  performed  request  to  a  dying  man.  " 
••  If  in  mv  power,  [  will  assuredly  grant  it,"  replied  the 
doctor,  who  felt  extremely  al!!;cted  at  Hartley's  fate. 

••  \  ou  carry  a  rifle,''  observed  Hartley,  looking  •<  \.  lhat 
on  which  the  I  )octor  leaned. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  the  doctor. 
••  It  is  charged  I  suppose,"   said  the  victim. 
'•  It  is,  sir,  "  was  the  reply. 

••  .My  hear!  would  he  thankful  for  its  contents  ere  tlu\-e 
savages  commence  torturing  me,  "  observed  Hartley. 

The  doctor  mused  for  a  moment  on  the  propriety  of  grant 
ing  tlu<  request ;  at  length,  looking  at  the  prisoner:  entreating 
countenance,  he  could  withstand  the  workings  of  compassion 
no  longer,  and  he  resolved  to  gratify  him  lei  the  consequence 
lie  \\-hat  it  wouhl. 

'•  You  shall  have  them,"  said  lie. 

"May  heaven    bless  yon,"    replied    Hartley.     "Farewell1 
ope  we  shall    yet  meet  in    heaven;"    and  he  marched  to 
place   of   execution    with   a   countenance   of  ]oy.   amidst 
exulting  savages,  who  not   understanding  the  nature  of 
dialogue    with  the  doctor,  were  astonished  to  behold  his 
:!"ii    assumption  of  braverv  and  [iirm;i''ss. 
'iie  vi.-iiii)  was  tied  to  the  >i;ike.  the  red-!iot  irons  and  the 
iii:''  b.-and  were  prep  uvd  for  torturmir  him.  and  hall  a  do/ 
f     .'.  i'_;es  waving  these  ti'i'iiiic  implements  in  ihe  air.  and 
e  r;o!u;i'_!   forward  io  dia\'e  them  into  Ins  llesh,  when  the 


,'   inM; 
on  hi;. 

'•  Brothers,  "  cautions  in 

is  the   messenger  of  Tonnaleuka. 

defrauded  you  of  your  just  vengeance  <^-..Vil,.-,  «  j,, ,. -,,,,-,,,, 
ami  (hired,  profanely,  to  interfere  with  the  customs  ot'  your 
fathers.  1  will  not  excuse  him- — bi,i  he  hears  the  holv 


Tonnaleuka  himself  will  condemn  his  action. 
Let  us  detain  him  prisoner  until  \ve  inform  tl;e  prophet  of  it. 
Whatever  punishment  he  may  award,  we  shall  iinlirt.  'I'he 
proj)!iet  knows  host  ho\v  such  an  outrage  should  he  piim.-h- 
ed  :  or  In;  will  consult  Mancto  on  the  suliject,  and  instruct  'is 
hou'  io  act. " 

'I'lii:-  moi!;1  of  proceeding  v/as  airircd  to  hv  the  \v;:r 
and  the  d  ictor  wa.s  confined  a  prisoner,  with  a  sentinel 
jihiced  over  him,  in  one;  of  the  \viir\v:: ins.  ('liarles  \;!d(  r!y 
\vas  also  confined  in  a  \vijT\vr.in,  hut  heiivj  the  destroyer  of 
;,  and  a  victim  already  condemned  to  the  llames,  he  was 
more  strictly  guarded  than  the  doctor,  who  it  wa.-  iiot  :-up- 
po.-ed,  wo  M  he  so  likely  to  attempt  any  desperate  mode  of 
e.-capi;.  (,'harles  was  kept  constunily  hound  hand  and  loot, 
with  four  Indians  <niai  dino-  him,  whereas  the  doctor's  wrists 
alone  were  tied  ton  other,  ;u;d  he  was  watched  but  by  one 
sentinel. 

Taksnma  did  not  fail  to  de?j>a!cl!  a  messenger  in  r-earch  ol 
Tonniihiika.  to  inform  him  of  what  had  happened  to  the 
The  ali'airs  of  .Viarh  at  this  time  kept  the  prophet 
so  busily  moving  from  jilace  to  place,  that  lie  was  not  easily 
dared.  At  Icn-r'h.  liowever.  ihe  mesi-enoer  hearing  ih:ii  he 
was  likely  to  he  found  at  Fort  Da  Quesne.  directed  his 
course  there,  and,  arrived  at  Grant's  Hill  at  the  time  the 
French  soldiers  were  holding  their  revels  on  that  place. 
The  messenger  had  no  disinclination  to  partake  ol' the  jjfood 
cheer  that  was  politely  offered  him  :  and  nf'er  having  eaten 
abundance,  he  applied  himself  with  "Teat  vig-or  to  the  con- 


mi:     WILDKKM'SS 


i.mption  of  the  liquors  that  were  handed  to  him  profusely 
nine  of  the  merry  Frenchmen,  who  wished  10  amuse 
ihein>eivcs  \\ith  his  fooleries  during  the  time  of  intoxication. 
Me  therefore,  in  a  short  time,  forgot  his  errand,  Doctor 
Killbreath,  Taksnma,  and  every  thinir  but  the  enjoyment  of 
his  frolic,  and  consequently  did  not  see  Tonnaleuka  for  that 
d.  v,  and  Doctor  Killbreath  himself,  the  reader  already  knows 
saw  him  in  the  cavern  the  next  morning.  How  this  hap 
pened  was  simply  .  s  : 

The  Indians  becoming  rather  scarce  of  provr-ious,  had 
all  '.rone  off  in  small  parlies  to  hunt,  except  th"  four  who 
lelt  to  iniard  Charles  and  the  one  who  kept  watch 
over  the  Doctor.  On  account  of  beiiuv  able  to  speak  Indian, 
the  Do, -tor  had  somewhat  ingratiated  himself  with  a  squaw 
wiio  lived  in  the  wigwam  wiili  him.  On  the  evening  of  the 
fourth  day  of  his  confinement,  the  Indian  that  watched  him 
becoming  drowsy,  roqu1  stt  1  this  s  ;uav/  to  keep  jjftiard  over 
the  Doctor,  while  he  should  enjoy  a  little  sleep.  She  assented. 
T  le  Doctor  soon  prevailed  on  this  Indian  female,  who,  as  all 
females  should  be.  was  tender-hearted,  and  more  than  partic 
ularly  so  towards  the  Doctor,  to  elope  \vith  him,  promising 
he,  a  »ivat  many  line  things,  and  among  others,  to  make  her 
his  v/jfe  as  soon  as  they  should  reach  a  place  of  safely,  as 
suring  her  at  the  same  time,  thai  his  master  Tonnaleuka 
\vould  not  fail  to  bless  her,  and  procure  her  'die  forgiveness 
of  her  friends.  The  simple  lady  believed  him,  i'ot  she  loved 
him. 

The    Doctor's    band>    were  accordingly  loosened,  and  i.ll' 
they  set.  the  Doctor    (a  re  to  carry  the  seniimTs 

with  him,  without    bidding   any  one  <vood  bye,  and  we.1  re  no! 
missed  lor  nearly  two  hours  afterwards. 

As  the  Doctor  was  very  impatient  to  reach  homo,  ho  soon 
outran  the  squaw;  and  forgetting  all  his  former  protestations 
ol  love,  and  regardless  o|  her  cries,  her  tears,  and  her  up 
braidings,  he  cruelly  leli  her  all  wearied  and  forlorn,  amidst 
the  clouds  of  the  ni'jhl,  in  the  heart  of  a  wild  desert,  either 
to  follow  him  at  her  leisure,  or  retrace  her  way  to  her  own 
wigwam,  as  she  thought  proper. 


"<>  <  1  HF,     VV  IJ.nr.HN  KSS 


CHAPTER    XVIII, 


Thou  power  Supreme,  whose   rnightv  scheme. 

These  \voes  of  mine   fulfil. 
Here,  firm  1  rest,  tli.'v  must  he  best, 

!'.ec;i!^e  thev  are  ihy  will. 
Then  all  1  want   (Oh,  iju  ihou   grunt 

This  one  request  of  mine  .') 
Since  to  enjoy  thou  dust  denv. 

Assist  me  to  resign.  BTPNS. 

THE  seventh  and  last  day  of  Charles  Adderlv's  reprieve 
from  his  impending  doom  at  length  arrived;  and  anv  i'aint 
hopes  that  he  might  have  harbored  of  a  final  deliverance, 
were  now  scattered  to  the  wind.  KeniaJseh,  the  brother 
of  the  slain  Hillsamash,  and  the  otlier  Indians  who  had 
pone  oil'  on  bunliii.u'  excursions,  now  returned  to  enjoy  the 
ceremony  of  his  execution. 

Charles's  feelings  were  sunk,  in  consequence  of  the  in- 
rensiiy  of  th(>ir  ])revions  excitement,  nearly  to  a  state  of 
torpor,  and  lie  looked  upon  the  awful  preparations  that 
were  making  for  his  destruction  almost  with  indifference. 

Verv  much  to  the  dissatisfaction  of  KemalseJi.  Taksuma 
prevented  the  savages  from  making  any  arranp'omems  for 
torturing'  him.  An  altercation  arose  between  these  chiefs 
on  the  subject,  but  the  latter  having-  the  amhoritv,  insisted 
en  keeping  his  word  to  Doctor  Killbreath,  and  the  warriors 
obeyed  his  directions.  Charles  had  been  informed  by  the 
Doctor  of  Taksurna's  promise,  but  he  entertained  such  an 
opinion  of  the  ireneral  wickedness  and  barbarity  of  the  In 
dians,  that  lie  placed  very  little  confidence  upon  it.  When 
IIP,  therefore,  perceived  Kemalseh,  whom  he  knew  to  In- 
his  inveterate  enemy,  disputing  with  Taksuma,  he  had  no 
doubt,  from  their  manner  and  gestures,  although  he  under- 
^tooi!  n"thin£  of  their  bui;;'u:ior.  that  'heir  Contest  was  on 


i  m:    \v  II.UFKN  F..-S. 


this  subject:  and  as  Rcmalseh  appeared  tin*  more  violent  <>t 
the  two,  he  was  confident  that  lie  should  carry  his  point, 
and  that  consequently  the  usual  tortures  would  be  inflicted. 

This  idea  aroused  him  at  length  from  his  torpor.  Had 
they  resohed  to  overwhelm  him  at  once  with  the  llames. 
his  sulicnn^s  would  soon  he  oxer,  am)  he  could  look  upon 
his  1'ate  with  a  stoical  indifference  ;  hut  the  slow,  lingering, 
and  excruciating1  torments,  the  endurance  of  which  he  now 
anticipated,  were  more  than  human  nature  could  hear  to 
relied  upon  unappallcd.  Notwithstanding  all  his  resolu 
tion,  he  therefore  became  considerably  agitated,  when,  as 
soon  as  the  hour  of  nocn  arrived,  they  led  him  naked  to 
the  stake  with  tfreat  clamor,  triumphant  yelling,  and  frantic 
exultation. 

Reinalseh  himself  tied  him  to  the  fatal  spot,  and  with 
ferocious  harharity  drew  the  hands  so  ti^ht  as  almost  to  --in 
the  (lesh  down  to  the  hone.  Taksuma  waited  until  this  in 
veterate  savage  should  retire  from  the  victim,  in  order  to 
<n\e  the  signal  lor  throwing  upon  him  the  already  blazing 
mass  of  wood  that  was  kindled  hv  his  side.  Reinalseh 
gave  a  shoui  of  joy  that  all  was  secure,  ami  had  just  retired 
a  Jew  pares  from  Charles,  when  a  troop  of  cavalry  burst, 
like  a  (dap  of  thunder,  down  the  eastern  hill;  a.  loud  hu//;< 
raiiLT  through  the  air,  while  at  the  same  insiant,  a  volley 
Irom  a  number  of  carbines  leveled  uemalsch,  Taksuma, 
and  five  other  Indians  to  the  earth.  The  rest  of  ihe  sava 
ges  had  scarcely  waited  to  see  this  slaughter  of  their  chiefs, 
but  hail  lied  in  dreadful  panic,  in  \arions  directions,  into 
the  adjoining  woods.  lu  a  moment  the  sword  of  \Yash 
Hilton  had  cut  the  bands  of  Adderh,  and  the  hapless  vic 
tim  was  rescued  from  the  file  oi  savage  \  <  ni'.eance,  ere  a 
^Millie  particle  of  it  had  touched  his  body. 

••  -\h,  is  it  thoii,  matchless  Washington,"  cried  Adderly, 
embracing  the  hero  as  soon  as  his  arms  were  loosened, 
'•thai  hast  restored  me  lo  hie.'" 

••It  i<.  mv  friend.''  replied  \\  ashin^ion  ;  "and  1  shall  do 
mole.  I  fhall  restore  \<>u  to  happiness.." 

••  Mi.  knowesi  thou.  wonderful  man,"  exclaimed  ('hade.- 
— "knowi<i  thou  \\-|iat  can  make  me  happy'" 

"I  do  know,"  SUM!  his  deliverer — "ll  an\    ihiutj  on  cart1': 


-iUf»  HIE  \VILDI:RXI:SS. 

can  make  ;h<>e  happy,  it  is  the  heart  and  the  hand  ol  iii; 
lovli'  si,  purest,  and  most  endearing  woman  in  creation — 
Maria  Fra/ier  1" 

'•Aii^Ci  of  mercy!"  cried  Charles,  with  a  wild  mixture 
of  hope,  jov,  and  surprise — "  \V here — where  is  she.'  Js 
she  s!iil  in  safety?" 

"Thank  Mod,"  said  Washington,  with  a  half-suppressed 
siifh,  "she  is  safe  from  all  present  danger.  "You  are  now 
sale  also;  and  may  you  both  lonu  eontmi'e  so.'' 

••And  it  is  to  yon,  Colonel,  that  they  both  owe.  it."  said 
Killbreath,  coming  forward  to  Adderly,  and  shaking 
him  wannlv  by  the  hand — "[  wish  yon — from  mv  soul, 
Captain,  I  wish  yon  jov,  of  both  your  life  and  your  love. 
\  on  mav  thank  (.'ol.  Washington  for  both.  He  plunged 
;irt  of  1'ort  J)u  l^ii'-sne,  and  rescued,  sina'lv  ani! 
alone,  mv  wretched  sistcr-in-la w  out  of  die  midst  of  ihe 
Movernor's  house,  as  sale  and  uninirt  as  when  she  entered 
it. — But  with  your  leave,  gentlemen,  what  if  \ve  search 
these  deserted  wigwams,  (for  I  perceived  th"  squaws  run 
ning  ol)',  as  we  aj>proached,  as  fa.«1  as  their  yoke-fellows,) 
for  something  to  eat;  for  after  our  ionu~  rapitl  i-nle.  i  confess 
i  should  think  a  slice  of  venison  an  exc*  Hi  11;  d  i 

"1  propose,  .first,"  observed  Washington,  '•  that  wo  find 
some  clothing  for  Captain  Adderly:  and  then  we  shall  think 
of  what  is  best  to  be  done  for  refreshing  our  frames." 

•'  My  portmanteau,"  said  the    Doctor,  "  will   furnish   him 

;i  >nit  of  as  crood  captain's  uniform  as  there   is  in  the  army. 

i  knew  the  Captain  would    be  miked;   and   while   you  were 

Mini!  the  men  a  I.  the  Mrcai   Meadows,  1    provided   th'1 

.i;         ." 

So  .say in;;,  the  Doctor  led  forward  his  horse,  unstrapped 
his  portmanteau,  and  produced  a  captain's  umlunn,  of  ibe 
provincial  service,  complete  in  all  i'.s  parts,  which,  ahhoi::j:i 
it  did  not  i:i  every  particular  exactly  lit  Charles,  answered 
his  present  purposes,  and  he  in  a  moment  resumed,  a  ehri-t- 
ian-like,  or  rather  a  soldier-like,  appearance  :  and  an  unoc 
cupied  hor-e  having  been  brought  by  Washington's  care  pur 
posely  for  him,  he  was  now  able  to  take  his  place  anion" 
his  companions  in  arms. 

Hn  e\ jtlorui:.'    the  W^wauis,  iliere  was   neither  man,  wo- 


THE    WIUH:KM;SS.  207 

niti  11  nor  child  lo  be  found.  All  had  fled  in  rapid  consterna 
tion,  the  moment  the  cavalry  appeared,  the  squaws  carrying 
away  tht-  younger  children,  and  the  older  one;-  running  alter 
them.  So  complete  indeed  had  been  the  panic,  that  oven 
the  warriors,  who  had  assembled  to  witness  the  intended  sa 
crifice,  had  not  carried  away  their  rifles;  and  Dr.  Killbreath, 
whose  rifle  had  of  course  been  taken  from  him  when  he  was 
captured,  for  making  such  an  often. "ivy  use  of  r>,  although 
he  hud  replaced  it  wi'h  that  of  the  sentinel,  frnrn  whom  he 
ha;!  run  off,  did  not  now  scruple  to  reclaim  hi-;  own,  which 
he  found  in  one  of  the  wigwams,  and,  to  which,  as  it  had 
been  an  old  acquaintance,  lie  gave  a  hearty  welcome. 

As  the  troops  had  brought  some  provisions  with  them, 
they  were  enabled,  with  the  aid  of  what  they  found  in  the 
wigwams  to  make -a  very  comfortable  meal,  which  they  no 
sooner  dispatched,  than  they  b;'iU  their  way  towards  Turtle 
Creek,  Washington  being  anxious  to  conduct  Captain  Adder- 
Iv  in  safety  to  his  .Maria. 

The  squadron  of  horse  consisted  of  about  fifty  in  num 
ber,  Virginia  rangers,  all  well  acquainted  with  scouring  the 
woods.  They  did  not.  therefore,  fear  for  any  force  that  un 
der  the  present  circumstances  of  the  country  could  be  hasti 
ly  brought  against  them  from  fort  Du  Quesne,  or  elsewhere 
in  the  neighborhood.  The  present  garrison  of  Du  Quesne 
consisted  chiefly  of  infantry,  there  not  being  more  than 
one  company  of  horse  in  it,  so  that  if  a  French  force  too 
numerous  to  be  attacked  with  advantage,  should  appear, 
ihey  could  at  least  keep  out  of  its  reach  by  their  superior  fleet- 
ness  and  knowledge  of  the  woods. 

As  their  horses  had  been  driven  at  a  very  rapid  rate  all  the 
way  from  the  Great  Meadows  to  the  place  of  destination,  to 
which  Dr.  Killbreath  had  been  their  guide,  they  now  moved 
at  rather  a  moderate  pace,  and  it  was  late  before  they  arrived 
at  Fra/icr's. 

Here  they  met  with  <i  hearty  and  jovfid  welcome;  provi 
sions  lor  the  men,  and  provender  for  the  horses,  were  both 
furnished  with  prompt  and  zealous  liberality.  Gilbert  and 
Nelly  showered  blessings,  often  and  often,  upon  Washing 
ton's  head,  for  what  he  had  so  nobly  and  gallantly  done  lor 
their  darling  daughter.  They  had  both  gone  to  Tonnaleuka's 
'28 


OH  THK      WILL'KRNtS.S. 

cavern  in  order  to  visit  her,  it  being  dangerous  for  her  at 
the  present  crisis  to  enter  their  house  which  had,  indeed, 
since  her  escape  from  the  fort,  heen  several  times  searched, 
and  ransacked  by  parties  of  soldiers  sent  out  in  pursuit  of 
her.  Gilbert  had  been  even  told  that  De  Villiers  had  threat 
ened  to  come  himself,  and  raze  it  to  the  ground,  if  the  old 
man  did  not  inform  him  where  Maria  was  to  be  found.  As 
Gilbert,  however,  conceived  that  this  was  only  a  threat 
which  the  governor  had  no  intention  to  put  into  execution, 
he  did  rot,  on  this  occasion,  think  proper  to  inform  Wash 
ington  of  it.  The  troops  were,  therefore,  after  they  had  re 
ceived  refreshments  conveyed  to  the  same  dingle,  where 
Paddy  Frazier  had  concealed  the  horses  on  the  night  of 
Maria's  rescue  from  I)u  Quesne.  Washington  preferred  that 
they  should  encamp  there  for  the  night  rather  than  at  Fra- 
zier's  as  being  a  spot  where  there  was  less  danger  of  being 
discovered  by  the  enemy,  while  it  was  equally  favorable  for 
his  setting  off  for  the  Great  Meadows,  to  which  place  he  in 
tended  to  proceed  the  next  day. 

This  matter  being  adjusted,  he  retired  with  Charles  Adder- 
ly  to  pass  the  night  at  Frazier's,  it  being  too  late  an  hour  to 
visit  the  cavern  of  Tonnaleuka.  The  impatience  of  Charles 
to  behold  the  charmer  of  his  soul,  the  espoused  of  his  heart, 
after  her  late  disasters,  was.  indeed,  so  extreme  that  he  could 
scarcely  brook  the  delay  which  this  arrangement  occasion 
ed  ;  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  permitted  his  desire 
to  hasten  immediately  to  her  abode,  to  be  overruled  by  the 
persuasions  of  the  more  prudent  and  considerate  Washing 
ton. 

"She  shall  not  be  disturbed  from  her  repose, "  said  Charles 
in  arguing  the  point.  "All  I  want  is  to  enjoy  the  happiness 
of  feeling  myself  in  the  same  habitation  with  her  till  thp 
morning. " 

"You  will,  at  least,  if  you  persist  in  gratifying  this  piece 
of  useless  impatience,"  said  Washington,  "disturb  Tonna- 
leuka's  repose,  a  matter  which  I  am  sure  would  give  you  no 
pleasure  ;  and,  then  consider,  that  as  the  prophet  may  not 
have  accomodations  for  you  in  his  subterranean  abode,  you 
might  be  obliged  to  sit  moping  and  dozing  by  the  fireside, 
either  breaking  your  heart  or  dreaming  nonsense,  till  a  rea- 


IMF,     WIJ,!)KKNKS>.  209 

sorahle  time  in  the  morning  should  afford  you  the  wishecl- 
foi  happiii"ss.  No,  yon  have,  just  no\v,  my  Iriend,  too  much 
nei'd  lor  the  refreshment  of  a  few  hours  comfortable  res! 
yourself  after  what  you  have  undergone,  for  me  to  permit 
you  to  take  this  whimsical  step." 

••Well!  do  as  you  please  with  me,"  replied  Charles. 
"  You  are  not  so  hot-brained  as  I  am!  and,  as  you  do  not. 
fe<  !  so  acutely  in  this  matter,  you  can  judge  more  cooly, 
am;,  no  doubt,  more  correctly." 

••  Alas  !"  thought  Washington,  and  he  heaved  a  sii>h,  "he 
knows  not  how  acutely,  how  severely  I  feel  in  this  matter." 
Charles  wa.<,  indeed,  as  his  illustrious  friend  had  observ 
ed,  much  in  need  of  rest.  Ever  since  he  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  savages,  he  could  scarely  be  said  to  have 
en  oyed  any  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  his  ardor  and  impatience 
to  he  with  Maria,  as  soon  as  he  had  thrown  himself  upon  a 
comfortable  couch  in  one  of  Gilbert  Frazier's  apartments,  he 
fell  into  a  deep  and  invigorating  slumber,  which  continued 
until  the  beams  of  heaven  shone  full  upon  his  pillow  in  the 
morning,  lie  then  arose  vigorous,  cheerful,  and  rejoicing, 
confident  now  of  proceeding  instantaneously  to  the  presence 
of  his  beloved.  But  he  was  doomed  to  bear  another  half 
hour's  provoking  delay  ;  for  Mrs.  Frazier  would  by  no 
in-  ans  permit  such  esteemed  guests  to  leave  her  hou.>e 
w  ihout  breakfast,  and  Washington  agreed  that  she  should 
he  indulged.  Charles  had,  in  consequence,  to  submit  with 
as  good  a  grace  as  he  could  assume,  and  by  making  a  con 
siderable  effort,  he  was  able  to  smile  off  the  vexation  and 
chagrin,  which  these  little  cross-purposes  to  his  wishes  or 
cn-ioned  him  to  feel. 

\t    length    all   obstacles    were   removed,  and    Washington 
se1  out  with  him  to  the  cavern. 

Maria  had  suffered  much  from  her  anxiety  concerning  the 
falpi  of  Charles;  but  the  attentions  of  Tonnaleuka,  who  had 
in  iuslriously  infused  into  her  mind  the  consolations  of  hope 
an  1  of  piety,  greatly  soothed  and  meliorated  her  feelings. 
Tonnaleuka,  however,  had  riot  himself  any  certainty  as  to 
Charles's  safely ;  nay,  he  had  begun  to  entertain  great  fear 
for  the  worst,  and  therefore  could  not  administer  to  the  aUlic 
tP-1  Maria  that  <olid  spnrjrs  of  comfort  n-hi'-h  nil  unequivo 


210  THE     WILDERNESS. 

cal  assurance  of  his  belief  in  her  lover's  safety    would  h'^vp 
enabled  him  U>  do. 

They  were  silting  together  after  breakfast,  conversing 
about  the  misfortunes  of  Charles,  when  they  heard  the  .si;i...d 
of  persons  entering  the  cavern. 

"My  child,  I  have  a  presentiment  that  there  is  good  ue  .  s 
approaching  us,"  said  Tonnaleuka. 

"Heaven  grant  it!  "  she  replied.     "hUu  ala?,  I  am  HO    K;- 
customed  to  hear  of  nothing  but  disasters,  that — Oh,  G,tr    if  , 
goodness,  is  it  so  !  "   and  the  next   moment  her  head  was  in 
Charles's  bosoiri. 

'•My  dearest  Maria!  My  dearest  love!''  he  exe'laiim  d  ; 
"have  we  met — have  we,  at  leiigih,  met! — oh  never,  never 
again,  while  we  live,  shall  we  part  !  " 

For  some  minutes  she  was  unable  to  speak;  at  length  -he 
burst  into  tears,  and  found  utterance. 

••Oil  Charles!"  said  she;  "it  is  you,  indeed,  who:n  I 
again  behold.  Thanks  to  a  merciful  God,  you  are  yet  iv- 
ing  !  By  what  miracle  has  he  preserved  you  from  your  ;  \v- 
ful  doom  1  Oh,  are  you  not  yet  in  danger''  " 

••  No,  my  dearest  love,"  ho  replied;  I  am  in  no  danger; 
but  that  thoti  art  safe — that  1  find  thee  here — that  I  thus  ci  .sp 
my  treasure  to  my  hear! — thanks!  glory  to  the  God  who  has 
thought  of  us  in  mercy  !  who  has  rescued  us  out  of  dUliess 
unspeakable;  who  has  brought  us  together  in  a  manner  in 
deed  miraculous;  by  means  of  an  exertion  of  such  a  c  .m- 
bmation  of  wisdom,  courage,  benevolence,  promptitude  ml 
energy  of  action,  which  no  earthly  being  but  one  possesses!" 

"Ah!"  cried  she  suddenly  ;  "I  see  it;  I  might  have  kn-wn 
it,  ii  is  he,  it  is  he  !  Nothing  that  man  can  do  is  difiKult 
for  him.  My  deliverer  is  thine.  Oh,  Washington,  "Wash 
ington  !" 

Here  she  advanced  towards  the  hero,  who  met  her  calmly 
in  his  manner,  but  inwardly  trembling,  and  almost  fe.  rful 
for  the  steadiness  of  his  own  heart.  Ah!  when  she,  v.  ho 
reigned  over  his  whole  affections  now  fondly  approa;  :ied 
him  in  all  her  charms  of  youth,  beauty,  tenderness,  am  vir 
tue,  could  he  feel  easy,  collected  and  cool  !  No;  \V  a*  ng- 
ton's  feelings  were  noi  of  a  temperament  capable  of  uch 
stoicism.  But  he  had  a  soul  superior  to  his  feelings,  and 
capable  of  controling  every  impulse  that  stood  in  the  w  y  of 
his  duty.  He  had  now  formed  within  his  mind  a  purposa 


THE     WILDERNESS.  211 

w'    i-h  lie  conceived   his  duly  called  upon   him   immediately 

tn  accomplish.      It  was  indeed  a  task,  a  difficult  task.      Tlie 

•     of  nature  was  stmnu,  \v;is  almost  irresistible  ;;gainst  it. 

I!    ',  lie  \viMild  not  shrink   from  ii.  although    hi.-  heart  should 

in  it?  performance. 

•'Thanks,  thanks,  thou  incomparable  ir.an!"  cried  Maria, 
to  the  restorer  of  her  Charles  a;;d  herself  to  happiness  and 
i  :  -h  <  'her.  AVI  int.  can  }  sav  to  express  the  weight  of  our 
i.'l  :i<_;a!ions  to  thee  ?" 

••  Mi-s  Frazior,"  lie  replied,  takinjr  hold  of  the  hand  which 
si  i>  held  out  to  him;  ''spare  your  thanks.  The  witnessing 
o:  your  joy  on  the  present  occasion  is  an  ample  recompense 
for  my  exertions.  Hut  let  me  say  thnt  it  will  recompense 
n  •  still  more  amply  to  witness  the  confirmation  of  your  per- 
n:  ment  felicity.  Captain  Adderlv,"  said  he,  "jjive  me  your 
h  nd.''  Here  he  for  ;i  moment  appeared  much,  affected,  and 
a  sudden  paleness  came  upon  his  countenance.  It  contin- 

0  (i,  however,  ln.it  an  instant;  the  cloud  passed  swiftlv  away 
ad    ail    the  fit-nines'--,   nobleness,   and    dignity  of  America's 
hero,  shone  full  and  hri"!;;.  from  his  countenance. 

'•Tii"    siru'ii1!'1    is   now    over,"    thought    he:   '-and    I   am 

vhat    I   should   he."      "  My  fri'-nd. "    said    lie   to    Charles; 

;  ladv  i  y  your  side  I  have   loved,   as  1  shall  never  love 

smother.      Hut  yon  possessed  her  heart  hcfore  she  possessed 

I'.ine.      You    are   become   necessary   to   her  happiness — her 

1  ippiness,   in   competition   \\ith    wlui-h    I   value   my  own  as 
liOihinir;   and  1  know    will  that    she  is   nece->ary    to   yours. 
Take  her,  my  friend  ;  make  h''r  vo"r  own;  and  oh  mav  }  on 
!  o  IOIMJ  liapp.v  together  !  " 

"My  hest  of  friends!''  cried  ('liarles,  almost,  weeping 
•.vith  the  force  of  his  admiration  for  his  deliverer's  matjna- 
limitv.  "You — you  alonf  could  he  capahle  of  this.  I  shall 
.ol  :.!t''in[>t  to  (-xj)ress  niy  gratitude.  It  would  he  in  vain. 
:int  a  heart  like  yours  can  easiiv  ima.qir.e  i! — \h.  then  von 
over!  mv  Marii.  1  once  fora  IIH  ment  suspected  it.  Hnt 
.  was  secure  in  her  fidelity,  and  cast  ihe  suspicion  from  my 
.-•oul  as  ni|urious  toward-;  her.  Iliijlily,  hii^hlv  can  I  esti- 
nat1'  LJK  s.icriflcc!  wliich  on  her  account  and  mine,  you  now 
.nakc  of  those  !:eavenly  hopes  whu'li  must  have  ;n'i-ompan- 
.ed  a  love  for  her;  and  highly  should  I  appreciate  myself 


'-il'-i  I  Hi;     \VILDERNES8. 

if  I  could  imiiate  thee  in  the  magnanimous  self-denial  01 
sacrificing  such  hopes  at  the  shrine  of  friendship  and  dntv. 
Hut,  alas.  I  foci  that  I  am  not  capable  of  such  virtue.  Oh 
Maria,  your  Charles  acknowledges  his  inferiority  to  that 
man  !" 

"  A.  nd  well  may  you  without  ablush  acknowledge  it,'" 
replied  Maria,  proud  of  her  lover's  admiration  of  the  hero, 
and  rejoiced  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  confess  him  his  supe 
rior  in  virtue  and  energetic  greatness  of  mind.  "  For  ah," 
she  continued,  "  who  can  compare  with  him  in  virtue?  ok 
what  do  we  not  owe  him  !  " 

"  My  children !"  said  Tonnaleuka,  who  had  hitherto  re 
mained  in  silent  astonishment;  "  this  scene,  indeed,  affect.-. 
me.  I  knew  Colonel  Washington  capable  of  much,  but  ] 
scarcely  thought  him  capable  of  this  ;  for  I  knew  the  fervoi 
of  his  love  for  that  maiden,  and  I  know  with  what  adaman 
tine  bonds,  (said  he  with  unusual  energy)  love  like  his,  bind:- 
the  human  heart. 

"  My  children,  I  cannot  speak  my  joy  at  this  happy  meet 
ing — Oh  may  the  Great  Father  who  raised  up  this  heroic 
deliverer  for  you,  make  yon  long  the  objects  of  his  care  iu 
this  lilt;,  and  in  that  of  immortality,  the  inheritors  of  his  eter 
nul  love  !  " 

Washington  now  again  addressed  Maria.   "Miss  Frazier,' 
said  he,  "  there  is  yet  one  thing  remaining  to  set  my  miu-. 
at  ease   respecting  you,  that  is,  your  removal  from  this  des 
ert,  where  yon  are  now   beset  with  perils,  imminent  innum 
ciable,   and  terrifying.      1    entreat   you  to  leave  it   with   the 
man  of  your  choice.      Give  him  a  legal  right,  to  protect  you 
in  the  midst  of  society.     I  shall  then  be  assured  of  your  safe 
tv,  and  become,  if  not  happy,  at  least  resigned,  and  perhaps, 
content  with  my  lot.  " 

"Sir,"    she   replied,   "Captain   Adderly  is  aware  of  m\ 
only  objection  to  the  wishes  he  has  often   expressed  on  thi: 
subject.      This  objection  still  remains.      If  it  were  remove,! 
— but  of  that  I  see,  at  present,  no  probability — 1  will  not  ai 
feet  to  say,  that  I  should  advance  any  other." 

"  Oh  Maria,  my  dearest  love  !" — said  Charles,  "  do  over 
look  that  objection  under  present  circumstances.  It  i.-.  one 
which,  under  any  circumstances,  ought  not  to  intervene  be 


THK     WILDERNESS.  213 

i  ween  a  union  ol  hearts  like  ours.  It  is  of  too  trifling  a  na 
ture,  surely  to  be  put  in  the  balance  against  your  safety  and 
my  happiness.  Believe  me,  my  love,  my  father  is  not  of 
such  a  mercenary  mind  as  you  imagine.  He  will  place  no 
importance  upon  gold,  in  comparison  to  the  permanent  happi 
ness  of  his  son.  He  has  both  too  much  liberality  as  a  man, 
and  too  much  tenderness  ;is  a  father,  for  that.  " 

"But  his  consent,  at  all  events,  should  be  first  procured," 
returned  Maria.  "You  art:  his  only  son  ;  he  he  has  no  doubt 
been  an  indulgent  father;  and  it  would  be  giving  him  real 
ground  for  offence,  if  you  should  take  such  an  important, 
irretrievable  step  without,  his  approbation,  nay,  without  his 
knowledge." 

"  Miss  Frazier,"  observed  Washington,  "these  sentiments 
become  you  ;  they  are  just  such  as  I  should  expect  from 
your  acute  delicacy  of  feeling,  and  strong  sense  of  propriety. 
But  I  am  glad  that  there  are  no  oilier  obstacles  in  the  way. 
These  shall  vanish.  I  shall  contribute  to  remove  them.  You 
know  me  too  well  not  to  suppose  that  I  shall  be  the  obliged 
party  if  you  accept  the  offer  I  am  about  to  make.  It  has 
pleased  providence  to  bestow  upon  me  a  fortune  amounting 
to  even  more  than  affluence.  A  portion  of  this  I  can  easily, 
and  shall  gladly,  devote  to  the  promotion  of  a  purpose  so 
dear  to  my  heart  as  your  safety  and  welfare  ;  and  must  beg 
leave  to  make  over  to  you  deeds  of  such  a  property  as  shall 
reconcile  your  future  father-in-law  to  your  alliance  with  his 
family.  I  trust " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Tonnaleuka,  hastily  interrupting  him.  "Hear 
me — When*  will  your  generosity,  your  kindness  for  this 
young  woman  have  an  end  .' 

'•  Hear  me,  permit  me  to  speak  You  have  plunged  into  the 
midst  of  her  enemies,  and  snatched  her  from  ruin.  You  have 
relinquished  in  favor  of  a  riv.il  the  most  fondly  cherished 
wishes  of  your  soul,  to  promote  her  happiness,  and  now  you 
would  bestow  fortune  upon  her. 

"But,  hear  me,  glorious  young  man  !  and  believe  me,  she 
li-quires  not  this  last  instance  of  your  generosity.  She  is  rich 
— as  rich,  even  in  worldly  goods,  as  the  father  of  any  man 
whom  she  may  make  her  husband  should  wish  her  to  be. 
She  i.s  my  heiress.  She  is  my  daughter  !  my  only,  ouh 


2  1  4  THE     W  ILDKRNESrt  . 

child  '  Oh,  Maria,  Maria  !  1  sin  no  Indian — 1  ;;in  a  sen  of 
Europe.  Oh,  embrace  me,  I  am  thv  father!" 

"My    father!"    she  exclaimed,    as.   she    threw    her  arms 
round  him,  and  leaned  her  head  on  his  bosom.     "  My  faiher, 
and  have  I  rea!l\  such  a  father — am  I  not  inc.  ,~d 
But  I  Inner  f;-h  it,   ;i!;liough   I  knew  ii  not.      [  never   Hf   for 
lorn  in  iln     presence.      Oh,    (Jraci.ius    God! 
This  indeed,  this  ormvns  the  mi<>htv  ble  «\\  hast  this 

day  conferred  upon  me.  Oh,  my  father,  my  fuller!  I  feel 
thou  art  indeed  my  faiher.  Why  did  I  not  know  my  happi 
ness  sooner 7  " 

"Daughter  of  my  love  !"  replied  Tonnalenka,  a^ain  clasp- 
iiv.;  her  to  hi-  heart,  "in  your  infancy  I  saw  you  hv.ppy  and 
safe,  and  I  was  content.  In  the  latter  years,  y<  u  \\  ere  also, 
until  within  these  few  d'ivs  -is  serene  i:nd  comfortable  MS 
j)t  rh"ps  the  slate  of  womanliood  will  permit.  1  wou'd  not 
therefore,  di.-'urb  this  serenity  of  vour  bosom  for  no  pur 
pose,  and  1  saw  nor.;:  that  could  be  answered  by  doi1 
I  had  acquired  an  influence  over  the  inhabitant-;  of  these 
wilds  by  my  assumption  of  their  manner.-:,  and  of  the  char 
acter  of  a  prophet  among  them,  which  had  been  often  useful 
among  themselves,  and  which  I  believed  mitrht  on  ?'imc 
emero-ency  be  useful  to  you  and  to  your  friends.  I  v.i.-hed, 
therefore,  to  maintain  this  character  undiscovered  and  im 
penetrable  to  all  the  world,  so  long  :;s  it  r-'^i;  bo  attended 
with  such  bene'i's.  !  perceive  that  you.  and  'hey.  and  I, 
must  now,  all  of  us,  leave  the  Wilderness,  from  whence  that 
repose  and  safety  which  once  blest  it,  is  fled.  We  must 
mix  in  the  innks  of  society,  my  daughter.  The  scene  will 
be  new  to  you,  and  it  may  for  a  while  be  irksome.  But  it 
will  afford  yon  safety,  and  an  opportunity  of  performing  du 
ties,  and  consequently  of  being  useful  to  both  yours  til'  and 
others,  which  cannot  here  be  found. 

'•But  my  friends,''  said  he  to  Washington  and  Adderly, 
"I  perceive  that  you  are  surprised  at  this  discovery,  and, 
no  doubt,  feel  a  curiosiiv,  since  you  find  I  am  not  an  Indian, 
to  know  what  I  really  am.  I  shall  at  present  give  you  buf 
a  brief  sketch  of  my  history.  At  a  more  convenient  season. 
I  may,  perhaps,  enter  more  minutely  into  its  details. 


Mil'     WTJ.MKKNKSS.  '4  1  5 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

,,t    hush'd,  my  ilar!;  spirii!   for  \\i:-;doin   e.ond 

\Vhen  ihe  faint  ami  the  fee'ulo  dep!»re  : 
!'••  si  roil <_r  as  the  rock  of  ihe  ocean  that  stems: 

A   thousand  v.  dd  waves  on  tin-  shore  ! 
I'liM'u.ii  th>:  penis  of  eh;, nee,  and  tlic  scowi  ol'  disdain, 

\Iav  tiiv  iVonl   !>'•  mialtcr'tl,  thy  courage  elate! 
Voa,  e\en  i!ic  iianio  1  have  worshipped  in  vaiii 
Shall  awake  !>ot  ;hc  sigii  ol'  remembrance  a-jain  ; 

To  ..ear  is   to   coiHjiier  our  laic. 

CAM  PBEI.L. 

'•I  AM,"  ;--;ii(l  'J'oniialcuka,  "!)v  hirili  ;i  Scolcliinau,  :uui 
:i  !  !ie-h!:Mi(lcr.  My  European  iininc  is  Mackintosh,  a  naiii-'1 
liicli  ni\'  /ciil  for  an  uni'ortimato  cause  has  IMVPH  a  j)lacc 
in  llic  hisJoi'v  of  Hrit:;in.  At  llic  death  of  (iucc.n  Anne,  it 
s  \vcll  kno\\n  that  the  friends  of  tlie  liouse  of  Stuart, 
ainoiiir  llio  most  /onions  of  whom  !  ranked  mvse!f,  for  I 
svas  then  yo;:iu;\  enthnsi;islic,  and  rash.  iTso!\cd  to  attempt. 
ihe  re-estahiislinient  of  its  exiled  ropiTScntativc  upon  the 
throne  ol  h^:  ancestors. 

'•The  Marl  of  Alar  was  the  first  to  raise  ihe  standard  of 
insurrection  in  the  Highlands,  and  I  was  ihe.  first  to  join 
him  with  ihe  whole  strength  of  mv  clan,  consistino-  of 
nearly  a  thousand  of  as  brave,  men  as  ever  wore  larlan. 
\Vo  soon  hi-ard  that  Air.  Forster,  the  I'larl  ol'  Derwent- 
water,  and  some  others,  had  raised  forces  in  FnMand  to 
support  the  same  cause,  and  wen-  on  their  way  to  |om  us 
in  the  Lowlands  ol  Scotland.  I  was  detached  at  the  head 
of  twenty-live  hundred  men  to  meet  ilu'in  in  ihe  Lothian^. 
The  Frith  of  Forih  had  to  be  crossed  cc  of  a  «trojio- 

na\  al  lorce,  au'are  of  o:;r  design.  J5\'  various  manu'tures, 
however,  we  drew  ofl'  the  attention  of  the  ships  from  the 
place  ill  our  embarkation,  and,  (hiring  the  nisi'lit,  arrived 
-al'e  on  the  soniheni  shore.  I  iuini'  diate!  ,  imestrd  l.eillu 


216  THE     WILDERNESS. 

which  surrendered;  but  the  Duke  of  Argyle  hastily  throw 
ing  himself  into  Edinburgh  with  ;i  large  body  of  troops,  I 
was  deprived  of  the  capital,  t  proceeded,  therefore,  with 
out  delay,  to  join  our  English  confederates,  who  waited  for 
us  at  Kelso.  some  distance  southward. 

'•  13cin<r  now  nearly  six  thousand  strong  we  resolved  to 
push  boldly  into  England,  in  order  to  encourage  our  adhe 
rents  then1,  and  strike  some  sudden  blow  against  the  Hano 
verian  government. 

••  Fortune  smiled  kindly  enough  upon  us  until  we  reached 
Preston,  where  she  ceased  for  ever  to  encourage  our  cause. 
General  Willis  there  besieged  us  with  a  formidable  army. 
We  were  compelled  to  surrender,  and  I,  together  with  all 
our  leaders,  was  carried  10  London,  and  imprisoned  in 
Newgate.  About  the  same  time,  the  Karl  of  Mar  was  de 
feated  in  the  Highlands,  nod  the  friends  of  the  Stuarts  gave 
up  the  contest. 

••Thev  paid  dear  for  it,  however.  Almost  every  week 
brought,  into  my  prison  intelligence  of  the  execution  of 
some  of  mv  confederates,  few  of  whom,  after  condemna 
tion,  received  mercv.  1  who  had  been  much  more  acme 
than  many  who  bad  suffered,  had  therefore  no  reason  to 
expect  any.  For  several  months  there  was  no  word  of  my 
trial.  At  length  I  was  desired  U>  preuare  for  it.  as  it  should 
take  place  in  a  few  days.  Several  of  mv  fellow-prisoners, 
also  under  the  chari;;1  of  i;i;r'i  treason,  were  to  be  tried  at 
the  same  time.  The  evening  previous  to  the  siuing  of  the 
court.  I  engaged  five  of  these  to  assist  me  in  an  attempt  10 
escape.  We  soon  mastered  the  jailor  and  his  assistants, 
and  in  a  moment  dispersed  ourselves  in  different  directions 
amidst  the  crowds  of  London.  Less  than  a  week  after 
wards  found  me  at  the  court  of  St.  Germain?,  the  titular 
sovereign  of  which  received  me  with  great  respect  and 
cordiality. 

"My  Scottish  property  was  now  lost  to  me  by  an  act  of 
attainder,  and  I  was  declared  an  outlaw.  1  was  soon  in 
beggary,  but  the  interest  of  the  Stuarts  was  sufficient  to 
procure  me  a  captain's  commission  in  the  French  army, 
In  a  few  years  I  was  sent  as  lieutenant-colonel  of  a  regi 
ment  to  Canada.  My  superior,  disliking  the  climate,  soon 


THE     WILDKKNKSS.  -i  I  < 

returned  to  Europe,  and  I  \v;is  made  colonel.  In  this  ca 
pacity  I  was  stationed  for  a  number  of  years  at  a  fort  near 
'he  falls  of  Niagara.  Here  I  had  an  opportunity  of  be 
coming  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  manners  and  cus 
toms  of  the  Indians,  as  well  as  many  of  their  languages; 
ami  also  of  greatlv  improving  my  fortune,  by  purchasing 
their  furs,  and  iransmiiiino-  them  for  sale  to  Quebec,  where 
1  had  formed  connexions  with  mercantile  houses  lor  that 
purpose. 

••  I  had  never  vet  thought  of  enterino-  upon  the  marriage 
state;  for,  although  I  had  not  been  indifferent  to  the  sweets 
of  female  society,  yet,  perhaps  the  sense  of  rny  misfortunes 
and  unsettled  condition  of  life,  had  prevented  any  woman 
from  making  any  serious  impression  upon  my  heart.  But 
I  was  now  doomed  to  behold  one  to  whose  graces,  accom 
plishments,  and  virtues,  I  felt  delighted  to  pay  homage.  It 
was  durintr  a  visit  1  paid  to  Quebec  on  pecuniary  concerns, 
that  I  first  beheld  her.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Monsieur 
d'Anville,  commander  of  the  Quebec  garrison,  and  only  a 
few  years  from  France.  I  became  entireh  captivated  with 
her  charms,  and  although  I  was  then  thirty-seven  years  ot 
ai/e.  and  she  but  twenty-two,  and  although  yhe  had  refused 
tiie  hands  of  numerous  .suitors,  1  had  the  happiness  to  gain 
an  interest  in  her  heart.  Her  father  at  first  made  some 
difficulty  about  consenting  to  our  union,  lie  was  rich  and 
noble;  but  I  was  so  too,  and  he  at  length  yielded. 

••  \Ve  were  somewhat  more;  than  a  year  married,  when 
by  Monsieur  d'Anville's  interest  1  was  appointed  to  com 
mand  the  <rarrison  at.  New  Orleans.  In  proceeding  there, 
I  was  instructed  to  descend  the  Ohio  river,  to  take  notes  of 
rhe  most  eligible  situations  for  a  chain  of  forts  which  the 
French  irovernment  then  contemplated  ereetinir,  so  as  to 
secure  the  possession  of  the  whole  countrv  from  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  the  (iulf  of  Mexico. 

"I  set  out  wjlh  my  wife,  who  was  attended  by  one  fe 
male  servant,  in  the  autumn  of  1731.  We  were  accompa 
nied  bv  six  officers,  who  bail  also  received  appointments  at 
\e\v  Orleans.  \\  e  advanced  on  our  journey,  receiving 
assurances  of  friendship  from  the  different  tribes  on  our 
loutr,  and  without  meeting  with  anv  mvideiii  until  we 


21H  i  m-:    \\  ii,m:K.\j;ss. 

reached  the  mouth  of  French  Creek,  \vjien  uufortunalelv 
our  servant  girl  (lied,  and  my  wife  was  left  without  any 
female  attendant  \\  e  i'elt  t!;is  accident  tho  more  acutely, 
as  Maria,  which  was  my  wife's  name,  was  then  far  ad 
vanced  in  pregnancy,  and  ih;  re  was  no  possibility  of  re 
placing  our  deceased  servant  with  another  from  Canada 
previous  to  the  time  her  confinement  was  expected.  In 
this  dilemma  we  heard  of  an  Indian  Queen  residing  on  tin 
hank  of  the  Monongahela,  not  far  from  our  intended  route, 
whose  society,  it  was  thought,  would  he  the  most  suitable 
the  countrv  could  alford  !o  mv  wife  under  present  eircum- 
stances.  "We  accordingly  hastened  there,  and  Alliqiiippa 
received  us  with  threat  fri;  ndship  and  kindness. 

".Maria,  however,  still  felt  so  uncomfortable  at  the  pros 
pect  before  her,  with  on!v  savage  women  to  attend  her. 
that  it  was  with  great  joy  we  were  informed  of  some  white 
women  being  in  the  vicinity,  who  had  been  carried  of]'  by 
a  party  of  Indians  from  the  English  settlements  in  Penn 
sylvania.  I  hastened  to  the  Catanyan  village,  where  these 
captives  were  to  he  found,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to 
prevent  our  friend  (iilbert  Frazicr  and  his  family  from  lie- 
ing  sent  to  Canada.. 

"(Gilbert,  assisted  by  the  Indians,  -eon  erected  a  commo 
dious  habitation,  to   which   Maria  was   convex  e'.l.      During 
her  sickness,  Mrs.  Frazier  waited  on  her  with   great   assid 
uity  and    tenderness,      lint,    alas  !    that    fatal    sickness    was 
destruction  to  my  happiness.      My  child,  she  whom  I  now 
clasp   to   HIV  bosom   as  my  only  offspring,    was   born 
my  wife,  the  solace,  the  d,elight  of  my  heart,  was  gone 
her  adoring  husband — she  was  dead  ! 

'•  f  can  scarcely  boar  to  think  upon  the  agony  I  foil  when 
informed  of  mv  misfortune.  I  shall  not  now  depict  it. 
Mv  senses  soon  became  bewildered.  1  have  at  this  day  a 
vague  remembrance  of  having  tied  from  the  fa'.al  spot,  with 
a  view  of  hastening  to  Canada,  ami  from  thence  to  Europe1, 
impressed  with  the  delirious  idea,  that  I  should  there  meet 
with  a  remedy  lor  all  my  troubles.  Several  months  of  my 
life  now  succeeded,  of  which  I  have  no  recollection,  for  my 
reason  had  been  entirely  suspended,  f.  however,  reco* 
gradually,  and  then  found  myself  :inioug  t!i(i  Troqnois  in 


I  !IK     WILDERNESS.  '41 

dians,  almost  upon  the  borders  of  the  Mississippi  river. 
••The  recollection  of  my  child,  rclurncd  M  illi  the  resto- 
ration  of  my  intellect.  :in<l  [  was  seized  with  an  intense 
(1*  sire  to  revisit  the  spot  where  1  had.  in  niv  fren/y,  left 
her  Tin1  Iroquois  liatl  found  me  almost  naked,  and  beinu 
astonished  at  ihe  wildncss  of  my  manner,  they  had  thought 
proper  to  preserve  me  under  the  impression  that  the  hand 
of  M;ineto  was  upon  me;  and  as  they  often  heard  me  ad 
dressing  the  Deity  in  some  Indian  language,  when  !  spoke 
in  any  o;her,  they  conceived  that  there  \vas  something  su 
pernatural  about  me,  and  he<ran  to  reverence  in"  in  mv 
insanity,  as  a  person  under  the  effects  of  prophetic  inspi- 

••  '  <  this  opinion  of  tiiese  savages  had  probably  savd 
my  life.  I  believed  it  best  when  ]  recovered,  not  to  unde 
ceive  them.  1  rather  took  some  priiis  to  confirm  them  in 
it.  At  length  my  desire  to  inquire  alter  my  child  became 
so  strong,  that  ]  privately  left  ;he  Iroi/iiois  wiih  thai  inten 
tion,  i  had  proceeded  eastward  as  far  as  the  Scioto  river. 
when  a  party  of  the  j\  lingoes  .--ei/ed  me.  1.  however,  un- 
ih.eir  lauiriiatn1,  customs,  and  opinions  too  well,  to 
much  alarmed.  The  delay  in  my  inquiry  after  my 
child,  that  the  accident  would  occasion,  o-rieved  me  most. 
M  v  appearance,  both  as  to  complexion  and  dress,  was 
ether  Indian,  for  I  had,  in  order  to  a\oid  danger  on  my 
ney,  used  their  dves  HI  coloring  my  sum.  !  also  had 
resolved  to  avail  myself  of  the  hint  which  the  credulity  of 
th"  Iroquois  had  ;nven  me,  it'  I  should  fall  in  with  any  of 
the  tribes,  to  p  >ss  upon  them  as  a  prophet.  I  therefore 
represented  imself  to  the  .Mii^oes  as  originally  beloii^mii' 
to  a  remote  nation  of  Canadian  Indians,  and  as  frequently 
havirtif  had  \isions  by  \\hu-h  I  was  instructed  to  <_'o  towards 
ihe  (  )hio  in  order  to  teach  the  tribes  in  thai  quarter  the  will 
of  the  ( •  real  Father. 

'•It  happened  thai  these  Minifies  had.  at  thai  time,  some 
prisoners  whom  they  had  taken  Irom  ihe  (Mtawas  m  a 
bal'le.  and  eonccniint.''  whom  they  \\  (  !'e  the  ne\!  da\  to 
hold  a  c'ouiicil,  which  they  invited  me  to  attend.  I  imme 
diately  determined  to  trv  \\hal  I  could  do  to  savt  these 
prisoners,  by  workinfr  on  the  belief  \\hich  their  compieror- 


220  THE     WILDERNESS. 

seemed  to  entertain  of  my  prophetic  mission — and  suc 
ceeded  beyond  my  expectation. 

"  I  vvas,  in  consequence  of  iliis  incident,  inspired  with  the 
resolution  of  remaining  among  the  Indians  for  the  purpose 
of  using  the  influence  i  had  thus  acquired,  in  order  to  tame 
their  manners,  and  restrain  their  barbarous  practices  towards 
their  enemies.  With  this  view,  I  solicited  adoption  into  the 
tribe  of  the  Mingoes,  and  their  principal  sachem,  Fallakam- 
sah,  who  had  lost  a  son  in  the  late  light  with  the  Ottawas, 
received  me  with  all  the  usual  formalities,  in  his  stead. 

"  My  desire  to  make  inquiry  after  my  child,  however,  still 
urged  me  to  proceed  eastward.  ]  informed  Fallakamsah, 
that  a  vision  had  ordered  me  to  that  quarter,  -uid  requested 
his  consent  to  my  journey,  lie  at  once  gave  it,  observing: 
"  Fallakamsah  never  will  oppose  the  revelations  of  the  Great 
Spirit." 

"I  came  to  Frazier's.  He  did  not  know  me.  1  saw  my 
child,  I  kissed  it,  and  pronouncing  a  blessing  on  its  head,  re- 
iiirued  to  the  Mingoes,  tor  the  purpose  of  extending  mv  in- 
liuenee  among  the  Indian  nations.  I  succeeded,  and  was 
soon  acknowledged  by  all  the  neighboring  tribes  as  the  un 
doubted  prophet  of  Maneto. 

"  In  a  lew  months,  I  again  visited  my  daughter,  and  formed 
the  resolution  of  making  a  concealed  residence  in  her  vicinity. 
I  soon  discovered  this  cavern  ;  it  was  naturally  well  suited 
lor  my  purpose,  and  with  considerable  labor  and  perseve 
rance  I  rendered  it  still  more  so  by  constructing  its  entrance 
as  you  find  it.  It  was  whilst  I  was  employed  in  this  under 
taking,  that  my  intercourse  with  Frazier's  family,  in  the 
character  under  which  they  have  ever  since  known  me,  com 
menced.  In  a  dell,  a  short  distance  from  this  place,  I  found 
Paddy,  who  was  then  but  a  small  boy.  lying  on  the  ground, 
crying  piteously,  with  a  fractured  limb.  I  carried  him  to 
his  home,  and  by  this  means  obtained  an  unsuspicious  in 
troduction  to  the  intimacy  of  the  family.  Previous  to  this, 
my  visits  had  been  few,  and  made  cautiously,  lor  I  feared 
discovery  from  the  superior  means  which  Gilbert  and  his 
wife  had  of  knowing  me.  I  escaped  such  discovery,  how 
ever  ;  foi  simple  and  undisguised  themselves,  they  placed 
unplic.it  confidence  in  my  story.  :ind  looked  upon  me  to  !*;• 
nothing  more  than  T  pretended. 


I  UK     WILDERNESS.  221 

"  I  now  became  the  instructor  of  my  child,  and  I  felt  hap 
pier  than  ever  1  thought  this  world  could  make  me,  since  it 
no  longer  contained  her  who  had  given  in>:  the  only  true 
relish  of  existence  I  had  ever  enjoyed.  1  had  no  desire  to 
return  to  society.  Mv  all  was  here,  in  the  Wilderness. 
My  child  was  here,  the  last  sad  home  of  my  wife  was  here; 
here  was  the  spot — nh,  how  often  have  I  watered  it  with  my 
tears!  where  the  remains  of  her  once  lovely  form  were  in 
terred.  Mere,  too,  was  the  theatre  of  my  usefulness,  to  hu 
manity.  Bv  my  authority  over  the  mind:?  of  the  savages,  I 
have  had  the  happiness  to  f-:ave  many  a  human  being  from 
destruction.  it:  maintaining  that  authority,  Uowever,  I  must 
•  •oni'ivd  that  I  was  often  obliged,  in  imitation  of  the  Cath 
olic  priesthood  in  farmer  times,  to  work  miracles;  in  suc- 
i-essfully  ('llccling  'vhich  I  have  been  long  greaily  assisted 
by  fin-  shrewdness  and  dexterity  of  Paddy  Frazier,  who 
:d"i'.e  \va--  in  the  secret  of  my  being  an  European,  although 
he  knew  nothing  more  of  my  history.  It  was  by  his  man- 
nent  thnt  the  eagle  which  was  sacrificed  instead  of  Doc 
tor  Kilibrea'h,  at  Le  Bceuf,  was  found  so  opportunely  bound 
io  the  rock  at  Lake  Erie,  and  numberless  other  instance^ — " 

Tomialriikn.  or  rather  ih--  Laird  of  Mackintosh,  was  here 
interrupted  by  the  hasty  entrance  ol  Paddy  Fra/ier,  u  ilh  in- 
lorma'ion  '•  ilia!  a  parly  of  French  soldiers,  commanded  by 
[)e  Villiurs  fiimself.  imd  just  surrounded  his  father's  house, 
threaieuing  lo  burn  it,  and  carry  the  whole  family  prisoners 
to  Kurt  I);i  -,^iie.-;;c,  in  order  to  compel  them  by  torlun1  to 
discover  tiie  pl;ice  oi  Main's  concealment. 

i  I  ere  u  as  a  new  trial  for  Maiia,  and  one  which  would 
have  overpoweted  her,  lor  she  iell  I  he-  most  tender  affection 
for  those  kind  friends  who  were  thus  plunged  in  calamity  on 
her  accoun!,  had  not  Washington,  instantly  perceiving  the 
slate  ol  her  feelings,  addressed  her: 

'•  Fear  no!,  Miss  Fra/ier,  for  your  friends.  I  have  a  force 
;U  hand  sufficient  to  rescue  them  from  these  tigers  ol  the 
forest.  My  life  for  their  safety.  Father,  sustain  and  com- 
furt  thy  daughter  till  we  return.  And  now.  (,'apUun  Adderly, 
and  you,  Paddy  Fra/ier,  follow  me  !" 

Me  hastened  to  the  dingle  where  his  troops  were  encamp 
ed.  Their  gallant  horses  swept  the  ground  in  full  speed, 


222  Tin:- 

and  in  a  few  minutes  the  French  party  were  attacked  almost 
by  surprise.  The  greater  number  of  them  fled  at  the  first 
onset,  and  those  who  stood  to  give  battle,  only  stood  to  be 
slain  or  captured.  iJe  \  illiers,  who  was  a  good  soldier,  did 
all  in  his  power  to  form  his  men,  and  prevent  their  flight. 
ITe  mounted  his  horse,  galloped  from  place  to  place  after  his 
flying  soldiers,  to  bring  them  back,  and  those  who  did  keep 
the  field,  were  retained  there  altogether  by  his  exertions. 
These,  however,  were  soon  ended,  for  Paddy  Frazier  having 
pointed  him  out  to  Charles  Adderly,  who  had  never  before 
seen  him.  he  flew  towards  him  with  the  rapidity  of  an  eagle 
(billing  upon  its  prey.  He  came  upon  him  unawares,  and 
so  intense  was  the  bitterness  of  his  rage  against  him,  that  his 
first  impulse  was  to  strike  him  to  the  earth,  but  he  checked 
his  blow. 

"  Turn,  execrable  villain  !"  shouted  he,  "  and  defend  thy 
self." 

"  In  tiie  name  of  the  ch'vil,  who  an;  you  •"  cried  Me  Vi!- 
liers.  a>  lit;  turned  toward  his  antagonist. 

"1  am  the  sworn  ,<vi ngei  o!  Miss  Frazier's  wrongs,"  <-v,id 
Charles.  u  Knowest  thon  that  name  .'" 

"  1'y  heavens,  then,  you  an;  her  lover,  1  suppose — ihe 
destroyer  of  my  bliss  !  Have  n!  tine,  then  !" 

He  hastily  fired  his  pis!(,'l  at  Charles's  breast,  but  the 
horse  of  tlu;  latter  thai  moment  raising  his  head,  received  the 
bail  in  his  brain,  and  fell  t»  ihe  earth,  while  Charles's  sword 
plunged  into  the  neck  (if  I)e  Villier's  horse.  \\  h:ch  fell  at 
same  time. 

in  another  instant,  the  combatants  were  on  their  feet,  with 
their  drawn  swords  in  their  hands,  frowning  terribly  at  each 
other,  in  all  the  desperation  of  deadly  rage.  They  gazed 
not,  they  spoke  not,  but  with  fiery  speed  sprung  to  the  at 
tack.  The  sparks  flew  rapidly  from  their  weapons,  the 
motions  of  which  could  scarcely  be  discerned  by  the  eye, 
while  their  sounds  rang  loudly  and  fearfully  upon  the  ear. 
But  they  did  not  long  continue  to  do  so.  By  a  sudden  side 
stroke,  Charles  dashed  his  opponent's  sword  from  its  direc 
tion,  as  it  was  coming  with  a  violent  thrust  towards  him. 
and  ran  his  own  through  l)e  Villier's  neck,  who  fell  to  the 


i  HE    wn.Di'iKM:.^.  22 'A 

<  arlii  groaning  :iiul    ponrini:   forth   a  torrent  ol'  Mood,  which 

:  tcrmim  t'-d  his  existen<    . 

••  S.)  perish,  all  the  Iocs  to  virtue,  and  the  oppressors  of 
innocence, !"  cried  (  ••  Maria  is  avenged  ;  I  at  length 

•  something  to 

:  I, or  -uhimt'ecL 

\ rein,     F  '  ;>th,   \vho 

qsting  in  their  ivfusal    to    discover  Maria'.*  'cut. 

lad.  for  the   purpose  of  heiirc  c  irried  prisoners   to  the  fort. 
strongly  pinioned,  were    no\v  released.  ;;nd    Nellv  and 
Mrs.  Killhreath,  soon  recovered    from  the.  I'rioht  into  which 
;t  is  natural  to  suppose  these  violent  proceedings  had  thrown 
'J'ht'  l';iinil\  now  hailed  \Va<hinir1on  "s  their  deliver 
er  iViiin  a  ferocious  a:id  enraged  eneirr    ;    -ind  t!ic  ardor  with 
which  (;;!'>!•;•!  :ind  Nellv  expressed,  in  their  simple  manner, 
their  gratitude  to  Clod.  :;nd   to   him   ::.•  (-oil's  instrument  ior 
their  preservation,  sunk   deeply  into   his   he   rl  :    .  ;;d    he  rc- 
sol'.td,  if   possihlo,  to  persuade    them    immediatelv  to   h'ave 
the  V/ilderiu-:'.--,  where    tlie\-  cmdd   no    longer   enjoy  safety, 
make  their  n  sidence    for   th'1    fnti  e  ['ale  of 

ci\  ilixation  and  la\v. 

(Jilhert  ass<  nted.  ••  ^e  ha.e,  \vi'  the  hli-ssing  o'  Clod," 
said  he.  "de'hercd  us  IV: >e  tl;e  house  o' liondage,  an' wherCt 
••honld  we  no  suhnii!  !o  he  onided  by  yon  to  die  land 
o'  safety  .'  for  1  trow  we  canna1  hide  langer  ht' re,  let  us 
griiiir  uliar'  we  will,  unless  we  wan:  to  fa'  into  <he  pit  o' 
destruction/' 

As  \VashiiHi-ion  wished  io  proceed  without  more  delay 
to  the  (ireat  .Meadows,  lest  the  French  should  come  out 
with  their  whole  force  from  I)u  Ouesne  to  att:ud<  him, 
Charles  hastened  to  the  ca\ern  to  inform  Maria  and  her 
father  of  their  victory,  and  the  consent  which  all  their 
Ir.ends  had  jus:  o-i\-en  to  accomjtaji}  ops  !o  th'-  in- 

hidnlf'd  countrv.  and  that  the  \\\\<  le  pa.r'v  now  only  awaited 
their  joiniu1:  them  to  set  out  for  jjunhar's  camp. 

\\hen  (iil'iert  was  informed  that  Tounaleuka  was  tlu% 
lath.er  of  Maria,  he  manifested  th"  most  exec-sire  joy. 
••  Noo,  \ell\  ,''  said  he.  "  did  I  no  tell  ye  mony  a  lime  that 
the  prophet  could  na'  he  an  Indian.  He  had  r.vc  owre 
mii'dcle  sense,  an'  "ifn  sae  like  a  Christian,  that  h<>  could- 


224  [HE     WILDERNESS. 

na'  ha'  talked  heller  on  what  was  richt  an'  wrung,  an' 
what  was  true  religion,  gin  he  had  been  born  at  Maughry- 
gowan." 

"An'  I  aye  had  a  notion,"  observed  Nelly,  "  that  the 
French  officer,  wha  was  sae  affectionate  to  his  wife,  wad 
yin  day  or  ilher  come  back  to  look  after  his  dochter." 

Gilbert's  horses  soon  equipped  for  transporting  his  family 
from  the  Wilderness,  where  the  repose  he  had  long  enjyed 
was  now  not  to  be  found,  to  the  habitations  of  society, 
where,  if  he  should  be  occasionally  annoyed  by  the  clamor 
of  clashing  interests,  he  should,  at  least,  have  the  shield  of 
law  to  protect,  and  the  forms  of  religion  to  soothe  his  de 
clining  years. 

The  laird  of  Mackintosh,  or,  if  the  reader  pleases,  Ton- 
naleuka,  soon  arrived  with  his  lovely  daughter  at  Frazier's, 
and  the  whole  party  immediately  set  oil'  for  the  camp  at  the 
Great  Meadows,  where  they  arrived  in  something  less  than 
two  days.  The  day  following,  Dunbar  struck  his  tents, 
and  the  army,  accompanied  by  our  friends  of  the  Wilder- 
ne.s*,  proceeded  bv  easy  stages  to  the  fort  at  Will's  Creek. 

It  was  agreed  upon  by  our  party  that  they  should  remain 
here  until  a  messenger,  who  was  immediately  despatched 
with  a  letter  from  Charles  to  his  father,  acquainting  him 
with  the  state  of  his  affairs,  his  prospects,  and  his  wishes, 
and  soliciting  his  concurrence  in  them — should  return  with 
an  answer,  which,  from  the  complexion  the  case  had  now 
assumed,  it  was  not  doubled  would  be  favorable.  Although 
the  army  made  but  the  delay  of  a  few  days  at  this  place, 
Wahshington  gratified  his  friends  by  remaining  with  them, 
until  he  should  witness  ihe  ceremony  that  was  to  secure 
them  to  each  other  forever. 

To  keep  the  reader  no  longer  in  suspense  as  to  the  fate 
of  these  two  faithful  lovers,  we  hasten  to  relate,  that  as  soon 
as  old  Mr.  Adderly  received  Charles's  letter,  he  proceeded 
to  Will's  Creek,  in  order  that  he  might,  with  his  own  eyes 
behold  the  charmer  of  the  Wilderness,  who  had  so  entirely 
captivated  his  son's  heart,  as  to  cause  him  to  reject  some  of 
the  most  splendid  alliances  in  Philadelphia.  The  first  sight 
of  Maria  removed  his  surprise  at  his  son's  preference,  and 
the  first  conversation  with  her,  made  him  delighted  with  it, 


THE     WII.DKRXESS 

and  he  took  the  earliest  occasion  to  observe  to   Charles, — 

"  It  is  no  wonder,  my  son,  that  you  became  enamored  of 
this  sweet  blossom  of  the  forest,  and  felt  such  an  ardent  de 
sire  to  plant  her  in  your  bosom,  and  carry  her  to  a  more 
congenial  air.  I  really  give  you  credit  for  waiting  with  so 
much  patience  during  the  slow  process  of  obtaining  my  con 
sent." 

"  I  deserve  no  credit,"  replied  Charles,  "on  that  account. 
U  hatcver  is  due  to  my  forbearance  in  not  making  her  pre 
maturely  my  own,  and  depending  on  your  indulgence  after 
wards  .for  pardon,  is  altogether  owino-  to  her.  Even  at 
this  moment  her  consent  to  make  me  happy  depends  upon 
\  ours." 

"  Then  mine  yon  shall  have  without  another  moment's 
delay,"  said  his  father.  "Secure  her  as  speedily  as  you 
can,  Charles,  for  I  reallv  believe  that  she  is  a  prize,  and  may 
heaven  make  you  long  happy  together  !" 

•'  Thank  you,  thank  you,  my  dear  father  '."  cried  Charles, 
and  he  could  not  avoid  kissing  the  old  gentleman's  hand 
with  rapture. 

"  I  shall  siirn  and  seal  articles,  as  to  money  matters,  with 
the  Laird  this  very  night,"  observed  the  father. 

"  As  you  please,  for  that,  father,"  returned  Charles,  with 
indifference — for  he,  at  that  moment,  cared  not  a  farthing 
for  money  matters. 

In  short,  in  a  few  days,  the  «reat  object  of  all  Charles's 
desires  was  obtained.  His  Maria  was  made  his  own;  and 
the  heart  of  Washington  fell  comfort  in  beholding  safety 
and  happiness  thus  secured  to  her  for  whose  fate  he  had 
long  felt  such  a  warm  and  tender  solicitude.  He.  the  next 
day,  hade  the  bridal  pair  an  affectionate  farewell,  and  re 
turned  to  Mount  Veruon  ;  while  they,  with  all  their  friends, 
proceeded  to  Philadelphia.  Charles's  mother  was  greatly 
delighted  with  her  daughter-in-law.  The  sweet  rose  of  the 
\V  ilderness  was  soon  introduced  into  the  first  society  in  her 
country's  capital,  which  she  continued  long  to  adorn;  and, 
notwithstanding  the  seclusion  of  her  early  years,  the  natural 
excellence  of  her  understanding,  and  the  judicious  culture 
it  had  received  from  her  lather,  enabled  her  to  acquit  her 
self  so  well  in  every  department  of  social  life,  that  she  soon 


'<J2G  THK     WILDERNESS, 

acquired,  and  presened  through  a  long,  useful,  and  agreea 
ble  intercourse  with  the  busy  world,  the  esteem  and  admi 
ration  of  nil  who  know  her. 

iJer  father  resided,  fhrerful  and  happy,  under  the  some 
roof  with  her,  onioyiwr  ;. midst  the  luxury  of  ease  and  liter 
ary  recreation,  the  satisfaction  of  her  presence,  and  that  of 
her  children,  ibr  about  twelve  years,  when  he  took  his  de 
parture  to  join  his  long-lamented  wife  in  the  regions  of  im 
mortality. 

With  respect  to  (Gilbert  Frazier,  the  benevolent  intentions 
of  Washington  to  bestow  upon  him  a  secure  and  comforta 
ble  residence  in  'Virginia  were  disappointed. 

•'I  thank  you.  colonel,"  said  he.  before  the  illustrious 
protector  of  himself  and  his  family  departed  from  Will's 
Creek;  kll  thank  you,  frae  the  very  bottom  o'  my  heart, 
lor  your  kindness  to  me  an'  mine;  baith  for  what  ye  hae 
done,  aii'  what  ye  noo  offer  to  do.  But  1  canna  lianu  to 
bide  in  A  irginia.  wliar'  there  are  sae  mony  black-a-moors, 
the  very  sicht  of  wham  wad  gar  my  flesh  creep  to  look  at. 
But  I'm  as  thankful  as  <nn  1  took  your  offer:  an'  I'll  no 
forget,  no.  while  my  said  an'  body  hnn<r  thegither.  I'll  ne'er 
forget  to  pray  for  blessings  on  vourinide  heart,  as  aflea  an' 
sincerely  as  I'll  pray  for  rny  ain  bairn'-1." 

Charles  soon  discovering  that  Gilbert's  wishes  were  in 
clined  towards  his  former  residence  on  the  Juniala,  pur 
chased  it  for  him  ;  and  the  kind-hearted  protectors  of  Ma 
ria's  infancy  passed  on  one  of  the  most  engaging  spots  on 
that  picturesque  stream,  the  declining  years  of  their  lives 
in  as  much  Iranquility,  and  almost  as  much  contentment  as 
they  would  have  done  at  Maughrygowan  itself.  Th<'ir  son 
Archy,  married  shortly  after  re-settlement  on  this  place, 
which  he  continued  to  cultivate  nmil  the  death  of  the  old 
people.  It  is  said  that  he  then  sold  this  farm,  (Paddy 
having  relinquished  all  claim  to  it.)  and  returned  to  his 
former  residence  in  the  Wilderness,  to  which  he  had  always 
felt  a  partiality,  and  from  the  vicinity  of  which  the  British 
arms  had  long  before  expelled  the  enemy  who  had  occa 
sioned  his  friends  so  much  trouble.  Here  some  casualty 
cut  him  off  during  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  after  whi.-h 
the  family  disposed  of  the  place,  and  removed  to  the  east- 


THE     WILDKRNESS.  227 

ward  of  the  Allegheny  mountains,  hut  to  what  neighbor 
hood  1  h:m:  been  unable  to  ascertain.  Tin1  i/hce  at  Turtle 
Creek,  however,  bears,  in  honor  of  its  original  settler,  the 
name  of  ••  Fr;r/>r's  Field"  to  this  day.  As  tins  name 
commemorates  that  of  the  first  euiiivator  of  the  Western 
\\  i!t!,-.  it  is  !o  be  hoped  (hat  no  capricious,  cold-heated 
proprietor  of  the  spot,  will  ever  attempt  to  give  anothe4/; 
or  it'  it  should  he  attempted,  that  the  \oice  of  socu.ty  will 
resist  the  ungenerous  innovation. 

The  future  fortunes  of  Doctor  Kiilbrrai.li  aliord  nothing 
worth  relating.  He  settled  in  (lie  practice  of  his  profession 
in  some  town  near  bis  father-in-law's  residence,  whore  he 
remained  durinir  life,  and  where  it  is  probable  that  some  of 
his  posteritv  remain  to  the  present  day. 

The  reader  will  have  observed  that  our  friend  Peter  Mc- 
Fall  does  not  appear  on  the  scene  from  the  time  he  returned 
to  Philadelphia,  after  the  battle  of  Fort  Necessity.  Tiie 
reason  was  this.  Shortly  after  his  return  to  the  city,  he 
met  with  an  Irish  sea  captain  whose  ship  was  about  to  sail 
for  Cork.  By  the  assistance  of  a  few  kindly  glasses  of 
groij,  this  captain  succeeded  in  persuading  Peter  that  there 
could  be  no  harm  in  taking  a  trip  across  the  Atlantic  with 
him  to  sec  old  Ireland  once  more,  because  it  was  as  plain  as 
the  mizeu-mast,  that  he  could  at  any  time  put  his  foot  on 
hoard  of  a  ship  that  would  brinsr  him  back  to  his  master, 
when  he  chose  to  do  so.  Peter  accordingly  set  sail  for 
Cork;  but  no  sooner  reached  that  port,  tli-n  the  British 
navy  unfortunately  happening  at  that  time  to  be  rather  short 
of  hands,  he  was  hurried  without,  his  consent  being  asked. 
on  board  of  a  king's  ship,  which,  although  she  shortly  af 
terwards  sailed  for  America,  she  was  so  unaccommodating 
as  not  to  land  him  there.  At  length,  by  Peter's  assistance, 
Great  Britain  having  conquered  her  enemies,  she  very  gen 
erously  let  him  go  about  his  business.  He  returned  to 
Philadelphia,  and  was  retaken  into  Charles's  service  ;  sev 
eral  months  after  which,  in  consequence  of  a  series  of  events 
which  we  have  not  time  to  relate,  he  happened  to  see  the 
fair  Ksthcr  Gist  tripping  alon<_r  the  streets.  Och  !  his  hear! 
again  warmed  to  her;  he  saluted  her  slyly,  and  put  (he 
question  to  her  so  nately,  that  they  wero — married.  He 


22R  THE    WILDERNESS. 

and  his  wife  lived  very  comfortably  together  to  a  good  old 
age,  in  Charles  Aclderly's  service. 

As  to  Paddy  Frazier,  about  the  time  that  his  father  re- 
entered  upon  the  Juniata  farm,  he  established  himself  as  a 
merchant  in  the  town  of  Carlisle,  in  the  vicinity.  He  con- 
tinned  this  business  very  prosperously,  till  the  winter  of 
t776,  when,  hearing  of  the  distresses  under  which  the  army 
of  his  favorite  Washington  at  that  trying  crisis  labored,  he 
abandoned  his  merchandise,  collected  about  twenty  smart 
fellows  of  the  neighborhood,  well  skilled  in  the  use  of  the 
rifle,  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  joined  the  hero  of  his 
country,  about  three  days  before  the  glorious  attack  upon 
Trenton,  which  turned  the  scale  of  the  war  in  favor  of  the 
friends  of  freedom. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  recount  the  multiplicity  of  exploits 
performed  by  this  sagacious  and  intrepid  partisan  and  devo 
ted  follower  of  Washington,  during  the  remainder  of  that 
memorable  war.  Washington,  who  well  knew  both  the 
merits  and  defects  of  his  character,  kept  him  in  constant 
employment  at  the  head  of  scouting,  foraging,  maneuvering, 
and  harassing  parties,  for  managing  which,  his  genius  was 
exactly  suited ;  but  he  never  elevated  him  to  any  important 
stationary  command,  as  he  was  aware  that  such  a  situation 
would  neither  answer  his  inclination  nor  his  talents,  so  well 
as  one  less  dignified,  but  requiring  more  promptitude  and 
activity. 

At  length,  having  frequently  received  the  thanks  of  his 
beloved  commander,  for  the  numerous  and  important  servi 
ces  he  had  rendered  his  country  during  her  tremendous 
struggle  for  national  existence,  he  fell,  bravely  performing 
his  duty,  at  the  very  close  of  that  struggle,  greatly  lamented 
by  him  who  best  knew  how  to  appreciate  the  utility  of  his 
active  career.  This  happened  during  the  attack  upon  the 
British  lines  at  Yorktown.  He  was  leading  on  his  men, 
who  had  on  that  occasion  exchanged  their  rifles  for  mus 
kets  and  bayonets,  to  storm  one  of  the  British  redoubts, 
when  he  received  a  ball  in  his  breast.  He  staggered  and 
fell.  His  party  would  have  retired  to  carry  him  off,  but 
waving  his  hand,  he  cried — 

"  Never  mind  mp,  mv  tads  !  Pn«h  on  !•-  -you  know  vonr 
dutv." 


THE     WILDERNESS.  '£ 

Shortly  before  he  expired,  he  heard  that  ihe  redoubt  was 
iaken. 

"  Carry  me  there,"  said  he,  "  and  let  me  die  in  it." 

He  was  obeyed,  and  laid  on  a  British  mattress.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  felt  the  hand  of  death  upon  him. 

"Tell  Washington,"  said  he  to  the  bystanders,  "that  I 
die  happy,  for  I  die  victorious,  the  death  of  a  patriot  soldier, 
worthy  of  having  been  his  follower!"  and  he  expired. 

When  this  message  was  conveyed  to  the  immortal  chief, 
now  leading  on  his  conquering  legions  to  their  last  and  most 
glorious  victory,  he  heaved  a  sigh.  The  memory  of  his 
youthful  days — the  image  of  the  sweet  rose  of  "  The  Wil 
derness,"  with  whom  the  idea  of  the  deceased  soldier  was 
so  nearly  connected,  came,  like  an  April  sun,  with  melting 
influence  upon  his  soul,  and  he  brielly  said — 

"  Alas  !  a  brave  man  is  cut  off  in  his  prime !"  but  he 
mentally  added — "  so  were  my  sweetest  hopes  once  extin 
guished  ! " 

The  extinction  of  those  youthful  hopes  of  mutual  affection 
and  happiness  in  the  possession  of  her  whom  he  had  loved 
with  a  fervor  almost,  perhaps  altogether,  beyond  example, 
to  which  the  father  of  his  country  here  alluded,  produced, 
indeed,  upon  his  mind  an  effect  which  continued  during  the 
whole  of  his  long  and  illustrious  life.  IS' ever,  after  a  disap 
pointment  so  deeply  impressive  upon  his  iieart,  and  under 
which  nothing  but  the  strong  sense  of  duty  which  he  pos 
sessed  in  so  remarkable  a  dejjrce  could  have  .supported  him, 
did  he  expect  again  to  entertain  the  same  feeling  for  female 
excellence,  or  enjov  the  same  delight  in  the  contemplation 
of  female  charms.  To  no  woman  could  he  ever  again  ex 
pect  to  devote  his  affections  so  entirely  and  so  rapturously. 
Hence  he  could  spare  more  of  his  thoughts  to  the  graver 
interests  of  mankind,  he  could  devote  more  of  his  affections 
to  his  country  ;  and  since  the  intensity  of  love  had  now  be 
come  exhaused  from  within  his  soul,  he  resolved  to  cherish 
patriotism  as  the  passion  from  which  alone  he  could  derive 
the  purest,  the  most  manly,  the  most  rational,  and  the  most 
exalted  delight.  lie  never,  it  is  true,  forgot  Maria,  and  the 
sweet  feeling  she  had  once  e.vited  in  his  bosom  ;  but  hi* 
and  h*  i  \\r|t:u<,  \vnrf,  for  th<  futiin>,  tho  rhiH ~  oh 


230  THE    WILDERNESS. 

jects  of  his  affection.  Her  joy  should  be  his  joy,  her  miserv 
should  be  his  misery,  and  for  her  benefit  should  he  exercise 
the  whole  force  of  his  powerful  understanding,  the  full  ene>-- 
gies  of  his  indefatigable  perseverance,  his  invincible  couraov, 
and  liis  pre-eminent  wisdom. 

Ilis  heart  having  suffered  much,  he  became  serious  and 
contemplative  even  in  the  days  of  hi.1'  youth,  but  he  had 
done  his  duty,  and  hence  he  was  blest  with  the  conscious 
ness  of  self-approbation,  and  whh  the  possession  of  a  mag 
nanimous  firmness,  an  independence,  and  a  fearlessness  in 
all  his  actions  and  intercourse  with  the  world.  Ilavir.or 
parted  with  the  only  object  that  could  engross  his  who"? 
affections,  and  being  naturally  free  from  every  close  and 
selfish  feelinjr,  his  hear'  regarded  all  men  as  his  brothers,  it 
cherished  his  count  rv  as  Ins  onlv  mistress,  and  hearkened 
to  his  duty  as  his  only  masier.  In  short,  from  the  dny 
on  which  it  was  forced  to  abandon  the  tender  hopes  of  a 
youthful  and  enthusiastic  love,  it  would  be  impossible  to  lird 
an  example  of  human  nature  having  produced  a  heart  mo,^ 
purely  and  entirely  devoted  to  all  the  calls  of  philanthrop  , 
patriotism  and  duty,  and  productive  of  actions  more  condu 
cive  to  the  world's  benefit,  than  the  heart  of  WASHINGTON'. 


THE    END 


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